In the Rush of Life and Distractions: How to Create a Real Connection in Davening | Rabbi Mendy Zilberstrom #006

00:00 Speaker 1 Tell me, how many times have you stood up to daven on Shabbos morning and suddenly all of life’s worries come up in your davening? Shalom bayis, making a living, raising the children. That’s exactly what I sat down to discuss with Rabbi Mendy Zilberstrom, a mashpia at the Young Shluchim Yeshiva in Tzfas. We talked about how to turn davening from a chore into work of the heart, and what it means to contemplate during davening. And at the end, there’s a very moving and special story from the mashpia Rabbi Reuven Dunin. I’m Meir Wishnefski, and you’re listening to On Chabad Education. Rabbi Mendy Zilberstrom, welcome.

00:30 Speaker 2 Hello, and thank you.

00:31 Speaker 1 A lot of times, when we start davening on Shabbos morning, all kinds of things run through our minds: worries about making a living, education, the challenges of life. I want to ask: Is davening the place where I ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu for what I need, or is davening really something else entirely?

00:59 Speaker 2 It certainly is. That’s the mitzvah of davening. At its root, in its essence, davening is asking for what we need, asking for mercy. So it is precisely when a person needs something that the mitzvah to daven applies to him, and this is his opportunity. As it’s explained, there’s a question of faith, if you like: Why does a Jew need to daven and ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu for anything at all? Hakadosh Boruch Hu knows everything. If He knows I need something, let Him give it to me; and if He doesn’t give it to me, perhaps I don’t need it. So what place does davening have? One of the answers given—and the Rambam brings this answer—is that Hakadosh Boruch Hu wants to see that we know where to turn. When you need something, turn to the One who can help you, and that is Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So it is precisely someone with worries and burdens for whom davening should occupy a much greater place, at the most basic level: davening is our opportunity to ask the Master of everything, the One who creates everything and gives everything. That is exactly what davening is for. The difficulty is something else: sometimes all those worries make it harder for us to concentrate. But if the question is whether this is davening, it is. Davening is asking for mercy. Incidentally, this has a halachic bearing too. There’s a rule that women are exempt from time-bound positive mitzvos. So what is the law regarding women and davening? There is a dispute among the early authorities, principally the Rambam and the Ramban. Even according to the view that defines davening as a time-bound positive mitzvah, women are still obligated. Why? Because it is an appeal for mercy. In other words, every rule has an exception. So if, generally,

03:00 Speaker 2 women are exempt from time-bound positive mitzvos, davening is different. Even though it is a time-bound positive mitzvah, whether by rabbinic or Torah law, women are obligated too, because it is an appeal for mercy. Presumably, the explanation is that everyone needs mercy—not only men, but women too. And what matters most for us is that this is how the Alter Rebbe rules: women, too, are obligated to daven because it is an appeal for mercy.

03:28 Speaker 1 And someone who—we touched on this a little earlier—but say he’s a young bochur. He might feel that he doesn’t have any particular worries. When we get married and build a home, all the things that come with life arrive. But a young bochur—how is he supposed to see davening?

03:46 Speaker 2 That’s entirely understandable. The fewer responsibilities and burdens a person has, the less he may feel that davening is essential for him. But first of all, we have to remember that it’s a mitzvah. For the same reason we observe all the other mitzvos of the Torah, whether biblical or rabbinic, we daven. Why do we do it? First and foremost, because it’s a mitzvah. Now, what should I have in mind while I’m davening? Should my focus, for example, be on “Heal us, Hashem, and we will be healed,” or on asking for a complete recovery for those who are ill? I think that for bochurim today, especially if we’re talking about Chabad chassidim of the seventh generation, the requests and prayers for Moshiach are very, very relevant. They will certainly find a great deal to connect with there. But I’ll tell you about something. Once I met a boy of fourteen and a half. I was in a learning program and saw how he davened—with such seriousness and beauty, in an extraordinary way. I wish older people would daven like that. Now, sometimes someone has a moment of inspiration during davening. But I watched this boy a little more closely and saw that at every davening, Shacharis, Minchah, Maariv, over several days, he had the same seriousness, the same deep understanding of what davening is. After a few days, I had a chance to speak with him. We got talking about something, and at the end I asked whether I could ask him a personal question. He felt a little embarrassed, understandably. I said to him, “I’ve seen you davening for several days now, and it’s so beautiful, so impressive,

05:24 Speaker 2 so inspiring. Who let you in on this secret?” He was a little embarrassed at first, but then he told me. He told me something very simple, and I think we can all relate to it. When he was nine, he was playing a ball game, and while running, he fell and broke his leg. He had a cast for several months. “It was a terrible time,” he said. As he described it: “I couldn’t run, I couldn’t play, I was limited in what games I could join. Walking was difficult. It was summer, and I couldn’t even scratch the spot under the cast.” I could feel how hard it had been for him. When they took the cast off a few months later, he felt a kind of [unclear]. Two or two and a half years passed. His mother was hospitalized for a medical reason and had surgery. He came to visit her afterward. At that point she was lying in bed, unable to move—or the doctors weren’t allowing her to move. That was the medical assessment. He told me that when he saw his mother like that, all those terrible feelings about being confined by a medical condition came flooding back. He went home—he was only eleven and a half or twelve—and davened Maariv there late that night. He began davening as usual, but suddenly, when he reached “Heal us, Hashem, and we will be healed,” he realized: “Wait, I’m upset about what’s happening to my mother. I know what that feels like. This is exactly when I need to ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu.”

07:01 Speaker 2 He told me that the floodgates of his tears opened, so to speak, and it was a very stirring davening. That was when he realized that Shemoneh Esrei—or davening in general—is precisely for when I need something from Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That is exactly the time I need to daven. We have mitzvos that we need to do, where the point is kabbolas ol, doing the deed, making a dwelling for Hashem in the lower realms [unclear], and all the wonderful things written about that. There’s the mitzvah of learning Torah, which is connected more with the mind, with understanding, with becoming united with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and all the wonderful things written about that. Davening is the place of the heart, the service of the heart. I know I have Someone to turn to. I know I have a Father who looks after me, a Father who cares about me—a Father who is Hakadosh Boruch Hu, who creates the world and is just waiting for me to ask Him. And when I ask Him, with Hashem’s help, He’ll give me what is best for me.

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08:06 Speaker 2 And where does contemplation fit into this? We’ve spoken a lot about asking for what we need, about knowing where to turn. But where does what we learned so much about in yeshiva—contemplation during davening—come in? Is contemplation also about considering my needs, how to ask for them or what to ask for? Where does it happen in davening? Because the contemplation during davening that I know is about Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So where does that fit in?

08:34 Speaker 3 So here you’re asking a very good question, and you’re really talking about what we learned in yeshivos. I assume you mean Chassidic yeshivos, Chabad yeshivos, where we study Chassidus. So absolutely: Chassidus reveals a much deeper dimension of prayer. Chassidus explains that prayer is not only about asking Hakadosh Boruch Hu for things, but about cleaving to Him. Deveykus. Perhaps we can put it this way: without the perspective of Chassidus, a person is a physical being, body and soul, with physical needs—and, as we know, spiritual needs too. To understand Torah, for example, as we ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu, “Return us, our Father, to Your Torah, and draw us close, our King, to Your service,” and so on. Chassidus reveals, or awakens in us, the realization that a Jew is much more than that: he also has a G-dly soul. And what does the G-dly soul need? It needs to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. So I think the definition of prayer as “asking for one’s needs” is accurate according to Chassidus as well. It’s just that these aren’t the needs of the animal soul, so to speak, or of a person as a physical being. Primarily, they are the needs of the G-dly soul, which wants to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And here we encounter a certain difficulty, because we are physical people. We’re preoccupied, as you said, with earning a living; when we’re younger, with friends, social standing, or whatever else. And suddenly we’re supposed to talk about the G-dly soul wanting to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, which can seem like something very much a matter of faith, something very distant. This is where Chassidus comes and tells us that prayer

10:18 Speaker 3 is the time when I can connect with my source. In other words, prayer is a time when I can awaken my G-dly soul, so that I can actually feel its presence. Once I feel it, I can go through a process in which a closeness develops between the Jew—my G-dly soul, which, as Chassidus explains, is who I am—and Hakadosh Boruch Hu. The more this becomes apparent to a person, the clearer it becomes to him, and the more aware he is that his true essence is the G-dly soul and G-dliness, and that his soul unites with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. What I mean is that G-dliness—Hakadosh Boruch Hu—becomes more tangible in his life, insofar as one can put it that way. It becomes an awareness, a recognition, and of course there are many, many levels to this. And this is where contemplation is needed, because contemplation means going deeper. As physical people, we tend to see and grasp what is visible on the outside. To go deeper—especially into a higher depth, the inner reality of the world, which is G-dliness—we need contemplation. For one thing, it isn’t immediately visible; this is a world of concealment. And for another, how do I contemplate? What am I supposed to do—look at a wall, and what will I see? I can think about something twenty times, recite it over and over, but how does that bring me to Hakadosh Boruch Hu? This is where we really need the teachings of Chassidus. Chassidus explains how Hakadosh Boruch Hu is present in everything, and explains it intellectually, not only as a matter of faith. It isn’t just a set of statements; it gives explanations. And when something can be understood and explained, there is certainly something to contemplate. The more abstract it is,

11:54 Speaker 3 the more we need to contemplate it and delve into it. And the more it is—

11:58 Speaker 2 Abstract, you mean.

11:59 Speaker 3 The more abstract it is, and the deeper it is.

12:02 Speaker 2 Mm.

12:02 Speaker 3 And this really does demand a lot of a person’s resources, including emotional resources and the ability to concentrate. Above all, there has to be material to contemplate. That’s why studying Chassidus beforehand is so important. The more Chassidus we study, and the more correctly and precisely we study it, the more—much more—we have to contemplate. And that has an effect on our davening too. Of course, no two people will be alike in this. It depends on where each person is, on his level, and on his age too, I would say, because the ability to delve deeply develops over the years, and so on.

12:37 Speaker 4 So prayer is really the point of connection.

12:42 Speaker 3 Yes.

12:43 Speaker 4 It’s the place where I, a physical person living in and seeing a physical world—with friends, as we said, and all those things—meet Hakadosh Boruch Hu in my day-to-day—

12:52 Speaker 3 I connect in an inward way. When I do mitzvos, I also connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, but through submitting myself to Him.

12:59 Speaker 4 Kabbolas ol—I did it.

13:00 Speaker 3 Kabbolas ol: I did it, and not... When I study Torah, I also encounter Hakadosh Boruch Hu, but more through what is called His wisdom and His will. Where do I encounter Hakadosh Boruch Hu either as the One Who provides me with everything, on the basic level, or on the higher level, where He enters into me—where He illuminates my heart and I feel a connection to Him? An emotional connection, so to speak; a connection to the truth of His G-dliness and to how He is somehow present in everything in the world. As Chassidus explains, that is really prayer. This is true both because it is an auspicious time—as Tanya says, the time of prayer, particularly Shacharis in the morning, is an auspicious time below and Above—and simply because of the content of prayer. That is what we talk about in prayer. What about all the—before that.

13:47 Speaker 4 Yes.

13:48 Speaker 3 We’re constantly speaking about Hakadosh Boruch Hu: about submitting ourselves to Him, the miracles He performs, the way He runs the world, His care for us, hashgachah pratis, and so on and so on. So when a person is immersed in the words and listens to them, he has something to think about in all of this. And then it begins to shine in his mind and reach his heart.

14:10 Speaker 4 So there are stages in prayer that are the place where I ask for what I need. We mentioned “Heal us,” [unclear], those places. And there are places in prayer that belong more to the preceding stage, contemplation. What exactly happens there? All right, I understand that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is great. I invest—

14:31 Speaker 3 I wouldn’t say it’s divided into parts. Rather, it depends on the person. If someone sees prayer primarily as a way to ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu for what he needs, then the main part will certainly be Shemoneh Esrei, because that is where we do most of our asking. Though we can see a little of that earlier too, in “With everlasting love You have loved us,” where we also make requests. “[unclear].” “The Merciful One desires the heart”—that’s a very, very special passage, particularly for someone who cares about Torah and mitzvos, as I imagine anyone who davens does. So there are other places where we certainly ask Hakadosh Boruch Hu for things. But the central part is indeed Shemoneh Esrei. All the parts we say before it are based on mitzvos, enactments of our Sages, and accepted customs, and on the principle that “a person should first arrange the praises of the Omnipresent and afterward ask for his needs.” So they serve as a kind of introduction, and the main part of prayer is Shemoneh Esrei. Chassidus reveals this deeper dimension of prayer—cleaving to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, submitting oneself to Him—and that begins at the very start of davening. In fact, as Chassidus explains, [unclear]. It begins even before davening. When we prepare to daven, we know that we are leaving one place and going to a higher place. So it begins with purification before davening. Then we go on to study Chassidus before davening, and then we enter into davening itself, and this comes through in every passage. How much a person experiences it really depends on where he is in his study of Chassidus—and, again, especially on studying Chassidus, understanding it and delving into it in the

16:08 Speaker 3 right way.

16:10 Speaker 4 Is there a way to do this? I mean, for someone just beginning to study Chassidus, or a young bochur. We said it varies a lot by age, but in general, is there some approach? You mentioned the mikveh[?], Chassidus. Is there a way to begin contemplating things in davening? Because it sounds very unrealistic, like something enormous and out of reach. Contemplation during davening—okay, where? Where? Maybe you could give an example, make it a little simpler.

16:33 Speaker 3 Contemplation happens mainly before davening. When you contemplate something before davening, it will usually illuminate your davening itself, and of course everything depends on help from Heaven. And again, it depends on the person. So I think that if we want to give an example, you could teach a Chassidus class on a particular subject, focusing, let’s say, on a particular verse in davening. Then, when a person davens earnestly and reaches that passage, that verse, he will probably stop and think, and something of what he learned will awaken within him. So I think davening is more an expression of what happened beforehand—of how real those things became for him. As for practical guidance, I think that, as with any building, it’s right to start with the foundations. First of all, it’s important to know the meaning of the words of davening, to understand what we’re saying. In Hebrew, the words—the basic meaning. What’s called Chumash with Rashi, or Rashi, a positive mitzvah; the chapter of Tehillim, a positive mitzvah; and the most basic explanation. The second thing is to train ourselves to concentrate without distracting thoughts—attention and concentration, as they call it.

17:45 Speaker 4 Oh.

17:46 Speaker 3 Yes, that’s challenging. It’s very challenging, and everyone has to work on it little by little. At younger ages it’s harder. At older ages it’s a little easier, though on the other hand it can be harder too: if there’s something I have to do after davening and it’s on my mind, that certainly makes it difficult. I think that may be one reason Shabbos is generally a time when more attention is devoted to davening, even by chassidim who can’t daven during the week with that peace of mind. Shabbos is a day when chassidim always spend longer davening—and not only chassidim. I think that in all Jewish communities, davening on Shabbos is more relaxed, because people don’t have the same worries or the rush of what comes afterward, so they can focus more. Those are the basic things I think are worth starting with.

18:29 Speaker 4 The meaning of the words.

18:30 Speaker 3 Simply to understand what we’re saying and to be focused, so that I can think about these things. Now, to be able to concentrate, obviously the less occupied I am with other things before davening, the better my chances of succeeding. Because if I occupy myself with other things, whatever they are, I’ll probably think about them during davening. The yetzer hara very much likes to interfere with davening. The Zohar’s words are quoted in Chassidus: “The time of prayer is a time of battle.” Davening is the time of the battle, and the yetzer hara really does fight. Each of us can feel it for ourselves: suddenly, during davening, we remember all sorts of things we hadn’t thought about before and won’t think about right after davening either. In other words, this is a time when the yetzer hara looks for an opening. It’s fighting for its life, so to speak, during davening. Yes, and that’s why it interferes. So the less we—

19:16 Speaker 4 Fighting for its life because?

19:18 Speaker 3 By “its life,” I mean its power to control, because it doesn’t want the G-dly soul to gain any measure of control, even for a short time. When the G-dly soul does manage to awaken during davening, there’s a very good chance that, little by little, its influence can extend beyond davening—to the way a person eats breakfast and says Birkas Hamazon, and later to being careful not to embarrass someone or encroach on someone else’s rights, and to other things throughout the day. It can also have some effect on the Torah study that follows. This is written about, and we see it in people who serve Hashem: how it influences and changes their whole lives. It doesn’t happen in a day, but these things do happen. It’s an inner change—or, more precisely, an inner revelation of the G-dly soul. And the more the G-dly soul shines, the weaker the animal soul becomes. So it really is fighting for its life. One of its tactics is to interfere, as is explained very clearly in chapter 28 of Tanya: when a person is engaged in Torah study and davening and suddenly distracting thoughts occur to him, it’s a sign that he’s probably studying well and that this is upsetting someone. So it gets up to interfere.

20:24 Speaker 4 What does it mean to contemplate? I took a chapter of Tanya and studied it; I learned a point. Do I think about it? Find a passage in davening and think about it? I want to—sometimes there’s also this idea, which we spoke about a little earlier, that a person can get caught up in fantasies, right? He thinks he’s reached a certain level when he hasn’t. So what does it mean to contemplate?

20:42 Speaker 3 Hmm.

20:43 Speaker 4 I know the meaning of the words; I know what they mean, and I contemplate their meaning. Where does it come in?

20:48 Speaker 3 No, contemplation isn’t—since it’s an intellectual matter, there’s no fantasy involved. It isn’t an emotional matter, where I might confuse myself about whether those feelings are genuine. You contemplate whatever it is you’re contemplating. The word for contemplation comes from binah, understanding. Binah, chochmah, daas—these belong to the world of Chabad, the world of intellect, so fantasy has no place in it. It shouldn’t, anyway. And if I’m trying to understand something and I mistakenly think I understand it, then I have a problem with my learning, not with contemplation. So I do think that, in order to contemplate, first of all I need material to contemplate. Take something in the physical world: if I want to invest in stocks but have no idea what stocks are, I have nothing to contemplate—what stock to invest in or anything else. First I have to become familiar with that world and understand how it works. Then I can use the information I have to try to work out what’s best for me. Of course, an adviser who understands it far better than I do might say my analysis is very simple and superficial, and that’s fair. But in my world, at my level, that’s my contemplation.

22:03 Speaker 4 Mm-hmm.

22:03 Speaker 3 Now, if I really want to progress, I’ll share my thoughts and conclusions with him, and he’ll tell me whether I’m on the right track. Maybe I’ve made a mistake about something. It’s the same with stocks as with any other undertaking. If I want to buy a house, I think about what I need. First of all, I need to have the facts to work with. It would be wise to speak to someone older—my parents, or especially someone I trust—who could give me other things to consider: “Wait, look at the neighbors too. Look at how close it is to schools, to work, to bus stops, to parking, to a place for outreach.” It depends on the person and what they’re looking for in the area where they’ll live. In other words, that person broadens my understanding. But what is contemplation itself? First I have to gather something to contemplate; I have to gather information. Just as in the physical world, so too in every area of the spiritual world, including this one. To contemplate, I first need something to contemplate. So what should I contemplate? In my opinion, it doesn’t come from one maamar of Chassidus, or two, or even three. The more Chassidus you learn, the more subjects gradually accumulate. Our Sages say that words of Torah are sparse in one place and rich in another. So as you study one subject and then another and another, an understanding begins to build. Each place contributes its own detail. In addition, not only

23:32 Speaker 3 You’ve studied, and you’ve also listened—for example, if we’re talking about yeshiva students, or people who have opportunities to listen to shiurim. In most cases, the shiurim—perhaps not in a younger yeshiva, but in somewhat more advanced yeshivos—aren’t about what the text says, but what it really says. You pay attention to the precise wording, to the definitions, and suddenly things start to fall into place. Once they start falling into place, you can begin to speak about the stage of contemplation. At the first stage, contemplation simply means thinking about what’s written and what I understood, going over it again in my mind. More precisely, it means thinking through every detail. You have to go step by step, step by step, until you feel that everything sits well with you and is orderly. A sort of framework forms in our minds—that’s how the mind works—and the idea settles in and takes hold. That’s the beginning of contemplation. Then there’s a much deeper stage. As we practice this and acquire the skill, it’s no longer just a matter of what’s written; there’s something beyond the words. Words, after all, are limiting. In the language of Chassidus, there’s what’s called the light of the intellect. There’s the essence of the intellect, and there’s the light of the intellect. The light of the intellect is what happens when the words contain an idea, and as our understanding deepens, that idea can begin to glimmer and illuminate. Then it becomes what’s called an understanding of the heart, something that becomes engraved in the soul. The idea begins to shine. And when it begins to shine, a person will often find a place for it in davening too. Together with the meaning of the words of davening, a certain

25:14 Speaker 3 process takes place—and that’s why we need to daven. So I would say: don’t rush to invest in contemplation.

25:22 Speaker 5 Right.

25:22 Speaker 3 Because there’s nothing to contemplate yet. What we can do, if we’re at the right stage, is get into the habit of trying to think through a maamar after we’ve learned it and know it. That isn’t contemplation yet.

25:38 Speaker 5 Before davening, specifically.

25:40 Speaker 3 Before davening is an especially fitting time. Just think through the progression of the idea. I remember that once in yeshiva, a friend of mine approached one of the mashpiim and asked him for guidance on contemplation before davening. The mashpia gave him an answer that wasn’t quite an answer, but it did carry a message. He asked him, “Which chapter of Tehillim—which part of davening—do you know best?” Usually the answer is Ashrei, “Ashrei yoshvei veisecha.”

26:07 Speaker 5 Right.

26:07 Speaker 3 So he told him, “Excellent. Before davening, I want you to think through the whole of Ashrei yoshvei veisecha, from beginning to end, without a stray thought—from Ashrei all the way to the final Halleluyah.” My friend asked him, “And that’s called thinking Chassidus before davening?” He replied, “No. You’re not thinking Chassidus here. You’re thinking, and you’re practicing keeping your mind on something—the thing that’s easiest for you.” That’s an initial stage, but not yet an initial stage of contemplation. It isn’t even the beginning of thinking Chassidus. It’s the beginning of thinking: being able to concentrate on something. These are preparatory skills that a person develops through practice. And I think that once a person reaches that moment when, even just once, he grasps something and it lights up for him, from then on it begins to move forward. I meet people who are already seventeen or eighteen and can tell me that they’ve had that flash of insight once or twice. From there, it’s really a matter of putting in the effort. Of reaching—

27:10 Speaker 5 Reaching that point.

27:10 Speaker 3 Putting in the effort, moving in that direction. And this is what Chazal call “service of the heart.” It’s work, and as with any work, you have to decide to undertake it. It demands effort, but it’s worth it.

27:22 Speaker 5 We’ve spoken a lot here about an intellectual experience, about contemplation. How do you train yourself in it? Where do feelings fit into davening? How do they come together with it? It’s supposed to be one whole package.

27:35 Speaker 3 Absolutely. Davening is called “service of the heart.” We know the verse that expresses the path of Chabad Chassidus: “Know this day and take it to heart.” In Chassidus, feelings of the heart without that preparation are called empty imaginings. We’re familiar with different kinds of davening—communal davening in shul with lots of singing and enjoyment. That enjoyment is special, and it should be there. A holy place should always be enjoyable. But that in itself isn’t davening. People are happy, they set the words to music, and it’s very nice. That’s perfectly fine, and davening should have that too. There’s no need to daven [unclear]. Chabad Chassidus calls for inwardness, for an inner stirring of the heart. That comes through contemplation in the mind beforehand: “Know this day and take it to heart.” It’s an entirely different world of feeling. It’s a deep feeling, not an external one.

28:29 Speaker 5 It could be that people don’t experience that feeling very often, the way you’re describing it.

28:32 Speaker 3 The question is why: are they putting effort into what comes before? When you invest in the preparation, then, with Hashem’s help, it comes. It’s a very deep feeling. Your feet won’t necessarily be dancing on the spot at that moment, but there’s an inner, genuine joy. I think that when a person receives happy news, sometimes he’s happy and starts dancing. But sometimes it isn’t just joy; it’s delight. There, dancing isn’t the point. He might not move at all because he’s so happy, but his heart expands. Joy, love, love of Hashem—these are an expansion of the heart. Eventually, that expansion can also find expression in dancing feet and clapping hands. So there’s a joy that’s external—not false, but more surface-level. Let’s call it that rather than external. It can come from a song or from a group of people, as often happens simply because of the atmosphere, at concerts or farbrengens. At the first stages of a farbrengen, yes. But then there’s a more inward world. A person suddenly internalizes a particular point, and that generally happens in the mind: perhaps I heard something, or perhaps I understood something. There are different ways it can happen. Then it penetrates. Then it shines. Something awakens in a deeper layer of the heart. And here too there are many levels, because there are many levels to the inner heart. Each person is at his own place, and it depends on help from Hashem. But the emotional experience of davening is much more than that. It isn’t necessarily expressed through movement. It happens in a deeply inward place, a place that shines and gives warmth. How can I put it? You can look at paintings by the artist Zalman Kleinman, depicting chassidim davening in shul. Or you can go around shuls and see people who really invest themselves

30:24 Speaker 3 in [unclear] and in davening. You don’t see much outwardly. If anything, you see a kind of inward, contracted posture, but their eyes are burning. Their bodies aren’t dancing, but you can see that something is shining within them. Their minds are illuminated and their hearts are illuminated. It’s a different layer, one that people generally don’t have access to. In the rush of everyday life, we don’t encounter that place. But the more a person understands the significance of things—take someone who wins the lottery. An ordinary person wins money, gets excited and starts telling his friends. But someone who understands the value of money and what it now means that he has gained it—what he can do with it, the investments and so on—experiences a different feeling, because an understanding precedes it.

31:09 Speaker 5 You spoke about Shabbos as a time when, amid the rush of life, the endless rush we’re all in, we can find time to contemplate, to learn before mikveh, to learn beforehand, and so on. So I’m thinking of a married man who’s busy earning a living. Shabbos comes and he invests the time, but on Sunday he goes back to davening, so to speak, in the fast lane. Could that leave him feeling, I don’t know, that there’s something false inside? Or make him say, “I’m not really…” You’re describing something very fundamental and long-term. If it happens only from one Shabbos to the next, is that feeling he had for that hour really genuine?

31:52 Speaker 3 It’s completely genuine.

31:55 Speaker 5 First of all, the feeling during davening is genuine.

31:57 Speaker 3 Both feelings are valid. I would say that this is the language of the soul—of the animal soul, which we’re talking about. The G-dly soul always wants to cleave to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. It would want to spend the whole day learning on Shabbos, and with Hashem’s help, that is what we will soon have with the Geulah: a day that is entirely Shabbos. So whenever the G-dly soul has tasted a taste of Gan Eden, so to speak, on Shabbos—if a person really managed to experience that on Shabbos—he’ll feel a kind of sense of loss on Sunday. Is that feeling false? Certainly not. That’s the G-dly soul. And here the animal soul comes into play. The animal soul. We’re not talking about transgressions; it’s not necessarily transgressions, it’s not transgressions at all. The animal soul in its pure state isn’t about transgressions. It’s simply the rush of life, as you put it, the things a person needs in order to live. And that feels like a loss. Actually, I think that sense of loss is very good, because when a person feels he’s missing something, he’ll start looking for it. Then perhaps he’ll try to get up a little earlier on Sunday too, to allow himself to daven on Sunday, and on Monday, and then on Tuesday. Now, take the mitzvah of Torah study. The mitzvah is, in essence, “You shall meditate upon it day and night”—every moment. But what is a person to do if he needs to support his family? Chazal say that, at the very least, his obligation is one chapter in the morning and one chapter in the evening. Along the same lines, there are people who can invest in the avodah of davening every day. Their hearts are free, their minds are clear. They’re at a point where, despite the rush of life during the week, they can still concentrate on davening and reach

33:26 Speaker 3 the avodah of the heart as they should. That’s wonderful. Someone who can’t, whatever the reason, should at least choose Shabbos as the day he invests in it. On the contrary, on Shabbos he has even more of an obligation to invest in it, because this is his opportunity to connect with Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Some people can spread that across the whole week; he has just one day. And there’s no doubt that, since this is how he’s being guided from Above—this is the flow of his life—he also has siyata diShmaya to invest in davening on Shabbos, and it will be that much more successful. But he does need to go to sleep on Friday night having decided that the next morning he’s going to get up and invest in it. As we know, it says in Chassidus, “Evening and morning shall be one.” The morning begins with a decision made the evening before. If we only wake up in the morning and then feel that we need to look after the children, prepare this and deal with that, get to shul, find a sefer, and finally concentrate—we’ve missed the day. When, on Friday night, we decide that the next morning we’ll get up, go to shul, invest in learning Chassidus and arrange a chavrusa; and when davening begins with the minyan, we begin with the minyan, continue on, and let our souls pour themselves out—then, with Hashem’s help, it will work. It will work better. And I think this is one of the fundamentals of being a chossid. A foundation of being a chossid.

34:46 Speaker 6 Davening.

34:47 Speaker 3 Especially.

34:50 Speaker 6 And you said—you mentioned earlier—that davening is, on the one hand, something very personal. I sit and contemplate; it’s also an experience, a very personal experience of my own. It doesn’t happen with the people around me. On the other hand, davening happens in shul. There’s a minyan, there’s “Amen, yehei shmei rabba,” Kaddish, all those things. How does that work? Aren’t those two things somewhat at odds with each other?

35:16 Speaker 3 That’s an excellent question. It’s a question that usually comes from someone who davens, because he feels the conflict. I think it’s a general question that exists among Jews in many circles, not only among chassidim. If davening is my davening, I may have a whole list of things I want to think about, even during Shemoneh Esrei when I’m asking for my needs, while the chazzan is already starting chazaras hashatz. So how can I reconcile the two? Is davening essentially something connected to a minyan and to the congregation, or is it something personal? Great Torah figures from various circles have offered different ways of explaining this. I once heard a line that sometimes people invest in davening with the congregation: they invest in the congregation, but forget the davening. Chassidus certainly demands that there be davening, and we try very hard to do it with the congregation, because davening with a congregation is more readily accepted. There’s also more holiness where ten Jews gather, so cleaving to Hashem there is much more meaningful. There’s the principle of “The King’s glory is in the multitude of people,” a greater sanctification of Hashem’s name. There’s great value in doing it with the congregation, but Chassidus places strong emphasis on its actually being davening. So what about the congregation? There are two points here. There’s a chassidic story that the Rebbe also quotes, in the name of one of the Tzemach Tzedek’s sons, if I’m not mistaken. This saying is attributed to him in connection with his father-in-law, who asked him when he would be back after davening. He said he would daven with the minyan. There was a reason he put it that way to his father-in-law, but in practice he davened at length—one of the Tzemach Tzedek’s sons. So afterward his father-in-law

36:55 Speaker 3 asked him, “Didn’t you say you would daven with a minyan?” And he answered, “Yes. It’s very hard to gather a whole minyan of the soul’s faculties and have them daven together. It takes a long time.” If davening is really done with effort, through working on the mind and heart, through pouring out the soul—expressions like these in Tanya—then we need to gather the soul’s faculties. In the simplest sense, that means our thoughts should be focused on davening and on the words we’re saying; the heart should be stirred by what—and how that also penetrates into action, which usually finds expression after davening. So in essence we have a minyan, a minyan of the soul’s faculties. But still, a verse never loses its plain meaning, right? That’s why we do daven in shul. Even someone who wants to invest in davening generally needs a place for it. A person looks for quiet and contemplation. We do go to shul, because there we’re obligated to respond to the things that can only be said with a congregation: Kaddish, Kedushah, the Torah reading, and all the other parts of shul life. The Rebbe’s recommendation, so that it will also be as close as possible to the plain meaning of “davening with the congregation,” is [unclear]: start together with the chazzan, and from there you’re on your way. Say it at the pace of your soul, as much as you can. If you can’t, you have the pace of the minyan. If you can, don’t stop. Let your soul reveal itself. Now, you’ve emphasized the experience of davening several times. We need to remember that davening isn’t an experience. Davening is avodas Hashem. When avodas Hashem is done properly, we’ve been shown—the Rebbe showed us—that it’s a kind of wellspring of living water, a place where the G-dly soul can reveal itself and awaken. And when it awakens and reveals itself, there is certainly an experience in that.

38:44 Speaker 3 But it’s very important that in davening we aren’t looking for experiences. We’re seeking to surrender ourselves to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, to find the truth within us—the G-dly soul—and Hashem’s hand in everything, in every event that takes place in the world, and the G-dliness within each and every thing, as Chassidus discusses, and much higher than that too. “Hear, O Israel: Hashem is our G-d, Hashem is One.” “There is nothing else besides Him.”

39:09 Speaker 7 I’ve been asking you a lot here about education, about educational matters, and the question I want to ask now is: how? How can we pass this on? I mean, whether it’s taught in classrooms or [unclear], or even—mainly, I think—as parents. How would you—what do you think is the right way to pass this on? Not davening at its highest level, not just asking for one’s needs and all those things.

39:39 Speaker 3 I think the most essential thing, especially when it comes to davening, is to be a living example. That will do the whole job. If your son sees you davening at your level, but sees that it’s something serious—that you have a regular place in shul, you begin davening, you daven, and there’s no talking in the middle of davening. Basic yiras Shamayim, as they say. That’s what makes all the difference. All the more so if you daven with some feeling and he sometimes hears how you daven. He’ll imitate you. Because davening is something good, something pleasant, when you make it that way. If parents are constantly telling their children, “Come on, daven. You haven’t davened. Did you daven?” then davening becomes a nuisance, and it makes the children dislike it. In many cases—if I may say this, and it needs to be said carefully—just as a parent says that to a child, someone needs to say it to the... Perhaps the child could even say it to the parent. Yes, yes. I mean that children are often a reflection of their parents. So certainly the most important thing in education altogether is being a living example, and I think especially so with this. A child needs to know... First of all, it is important for a parent to make sure his children have a place beside him in shul. If seats are purchased there, he should buy seats for the children too. Children don’t need to come to shul at every age. They don’t need to get all the words of davening out at every age. Everyone should consult his rabbonim and the educators about exactly what age is right, because if we do things too early, we’re not doing something good. But from the appropriate age,

41:27 Speaker 3 we should help them love shul and love davening. We should help them feel that shul is a place of love, but also of yiras Hashem—it’s Hashem’s house. You don’t run wild there or race around. It’s an orderly place, a good place. It’s a place of yiras Shamayim. It’s a place where you can see what it means for a Jew to love Hakadosh Boruch Hu. And I think that’s the thing that works best. The deeper aspects of davening we’ll leave to the mashpi’im in the yeshivos, who will handle them successfully, with Hashem’s help.

41:56 Speaker 8 If someone is starting from zero—we’ve spoken here about a lot of concepts, in Chassidus and everything—if someone is really starting from the beginning, where would you tell them to start?

42:07 Speaker 3 As I mentioned earlier, I would say: practice.

42:10 Speaker 8 Practice.

42:11 Speaker 3 Practice, starting with preparation. First, learn what the words mean. You don’t even need to know a hundred percent of them, but little by little. I think Hebrew speakers have it easier, because just from knowing Hebrew they understand perhaps seventy percent of the davening. A second thing to practice is concentration. For that, it helps a great deal to say the davening a little louder. Not Shemoneh Esrei, but the rest of davening—say it aloud. The voice awakens concentration. It will help us listen to what we’re saying. Practice that, and practice staying in one place: stand in one place, sit in one place. For beginners, practicing that is hard enough; it’s a challenge. Alongside that, of course we want to daven in the way of Chassidus. So the more we learn Chassidus before davening and think about what it says, the more we’ll see how those things awaken us too. I can tell you personally that for many years I didn’t understand why Chassidus is a preparation for davening. For many years I learned Chassidus before davening, and at some point, boruch Hashem, I grasped why Chassidus is a preparation for davening. It didn’t happen when I was young; it happened when I was a bit older. But presumably it was thanks to all those years of learning Chassidus before davening with kabbolas ol, as it were, because that’s what chassidim do. They immerse in the mikveh beforehand, learn Chassidus, and then daven. Sometimes those seemed like three unrelated things, but that’s the way of chassidim, so that’s what you do. At some point Hakadosh Boruch Hu helps, and apparently things begin to take on meaning: one thing really is a preparation for the next.

43:40 Speaker 8 Wow, that sounds like a lifetime’s work.

43:44 Speaker 3 It’s all with help from Heaven. But I think consistency is what makes things happen. Consistency and care, and knowing that there’s something real here that the Rebbe revealed to us, and that it truly is [unclear].

43:58 Speaker 8 In recent years, the Rebbe spoke to us a great deal about the Geulah and about how everything passes through that gateway. How is davening connected to this world of Geulah—in contemplation, in thought?

44:13 Speaker 3 On the technical level, the basic level of davening, I think that if we look at Shemoneh Esrei, most of it deals with the Geulah and Moshiach. Most of the blessings deal with the resurrection of the dead, the ingathering of the exiles, the restoration of the Sanhedrin, the return of prophecy, the rebuilding of Jerusalem, the Beis Hamikdash, Moshiach, “May our eyes behold...” Most of davening deals with the rebuilding of the Beis... Most of davening, most of the blessings, deal with these things. We also need to remember when davening was instituted: after the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. That’s when it began. The service of the sacrifices ceased, so davening took the place of the sacrifices. So the Geulah and Moshiach, with all their components, occupy a very, very central place in davening. First of all, then, we daven a great deal for Moshiach. Certainly the basic thing is that we should have more intent—not just say those words, but ask for those things. Not long ago I met someone with whom I’d had some contact about davening, and we had spoken about the blessing “And to Jerusalem, Your city, may You return in mercy.” He was from abroad and ended up spending some time at the Kosel. Afterward he came back and told me, “Suddenly I realized: I’ve been davening for so many years, and the blessing is about this place.” It awakened him so much in davening that he really began listening to what he was saying and connecting what was written to the reality he was standing in. So how does this connect to the Geulah and Moshiach? This is exactly what we’re asking for. Secondly, and more importantly, there’s the deeper aspect of davening that Chassidus speaks about. What is Moshiach? What is Geulah? That the aleph should shine forth—that G-dliness should shine in everything. That is exactly what happens. You could say that during davening we bring about our own personal Geulah, as far as possible within the confines of exile. That is, the aleph within us is our G-dly soul. The more we allow our G-dly soul to awaken

46:04 Speaker 3 during davening—and it awakens as we speak about Hakadosh Boruch Hu and follow the content of the verses we say—the more connected we become to Hakadosh Boruch Hu and the more we begin to sense G-dliness. It sounds a little fanciful, but of course this is within the confines of exile, and things begin to take hold; our eyes begin to open. For example, we’re now going through all kinds of events in Israel. It’s all written in davening. Take the whole story of the Exodus from Egypt: replace the word “Egypt” with “Iran.” The same things recur—all the miracles and wonders, what the other side planned, and what is happening today. Suddenly these things become so relevant. It brings home to you that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is in charge of this dwelling, this world. It shows you the heart, shows you the joy, and shows you the anticipation for everything to be complete, immediately, when “Hashem will be King over all the earth; on that day Hashem will be One and His name One.” In essence, all of this is Geulah. We are asking for the true and complete Geulah in a tangible way. That’s why Chassidus is called a foretaste of the teachings of Moshiach. Learning Chassidus is a taste of the teachings of Moshiach. And when davening is done in the way of Chassidus, apparently it too has something of the feeling people will experience in those days—the days for which, as it is written, the Sages yearned.

47:22 Speaker 8 So davening is a little like experiencing Moshiach.

47:24 Speaker 3 Someone who manages to daven in the Chassidic sense experiences something much deeper than prayer alone. If Geulah means a revelation of G-dliness, then something like that happens during davening. There was a chossid, now one of the elder chassidim and elder shluchim, who was observing a period of mourning—first for his wife, and later for a daughter. He would daven slowly, even when leading the congregation. A young man who davened in his minyan approached him afterward and later told me about it. He said, “First of all, thank you for such an inspiring davening, with such deliberation. It stirred me too that day.” It was the 18th—or the 17th. “But how do you manage to do this every day?” he asked. The chossid answered simply, “If not during davening, when will we give our G-dly soul a chance to awaken and express itself?” In other words, this chossid felt that when he came to daven, the G-dly soul—something inside him that generally isn’t active in the rush of daily life—came alive. That is exactly the G-dly soul we talk about and study in Chassidus. It is the G-dly part within us. And it’s no longer just something we believe in; suddenly it becomes tangible. If we’ve managed to make something we believe in tangible, that is Geulah, isn’t it?

48:49 Speaker 9 Yes.

48:50 Speaker 3 In a certain sense.

48:52 Speaker 9 Something personal from you—a tip for serving Hashem or for education that you could share with us.

48:59 Speaker 3 Um, let me finish with a story.

49:03 Speaker 9 Even better.

49:04 Speaker 3 It’s not so personal; it’s actually about another chossid. But I think the story itself offers a tip. When I was in yeshiva, we invited the chossid Rabbi Reuven Dunin, a"h, to spend an entire Shabbos with us at the yeshiva. His family circumstances at the time allowed him to do that; he had been widowed. So he came to the yeshiva. At that time, there was an ongoing discussion between two students. One invested more in davening and spoke about avodas hatefillah and all the wonderful things it entails. The other said he didn’t understand what they were talking about at all. You should start davening with the minyan and finish with the minyan; the rest was just imagination. Perhaps it had been relevant in earlier generations, but now? It was a discussion, not an argument, that came up from time to time. In yeshiva you could see those who valued davening and put effort into it, trying to reach a higher level, while others would say, “Forget it, they’re just playing games.” So on Sunday, after that Shabbos, the student who hadn’t understood what people wanted from davening—who thought you just came to shul, started, finished, and that was it—approached the other student and said, “You know what? Something changed for me this Shabbos.” What happened? He said, “When davening at the yeshiva was over—Musaf, Tehillim, everything—I went, as usual, to put away my hat and jacket, and then I was going to learn something before the Shabbos meal. Near the place where we put our hats and jackets stood Rabbi Reuven Dunin, the chossid—

51:02 Speaker 3 Reuven Dunin—and he was davening. He was up to ‘Ahavas Olam Ahavtanu,’ and he was davening quietly to himself, though someone nearby could apparently hear him. The student heard the way that chossid, Rabbi Reuven Dunin, davened, and it touched his heart.” When I heard how that chossid had davened, it affected me deeply too, and the way he davened stayed with me. Anyone who knew Rabbi Reuven Dunin’s manner knows what I mean. For one thing, he davened with the Sephardic pronunciation of Hebrew, not the Ashkenazic one. He was also an exceptionally warm person, with very deep feeling. At the moment that student passed him, Rabbi Reuven was saying the passage before Shemoneh Esrei like this: “Our Father, merciful Father, have mercy on us and grant our hearts understanding to understand and discern, to listen, to learn and to teach, and to observe all the words of Your Torah with love. Enlighten our eyes with Your Torah, attach our hearts to Your mitzvos, and unite our hearts to love and fear Your Name. May we never be ashamed, disgraced or stumble, forever and ever.” The student said, “Suddenly I heard a new meaning in the words—though it wasn’t new at all; it was simply what the davening says. It changed me.” If we get ourselves used to davening this way, each in our own style, it will bring light into our lives. It will affect our children. Without a doubt, it will affect the people around us. We will begin to taste the davening that the Rebbe revealed to us is so special.

52:50 Speaker 10 Rabbi Mendy Zilberstrom, thank you very much. Yasher koach.

52:53 Speaker 3 Thank you very much.