My Prayer Is Dry and Devoid of Thought - Does Hashem Listen to It? | Rabbi Asher Perkesh

00:00 Everyone wonders: Is Hakadosh Boruch Hu listening to me? Is my davening worth anything? We all know that however hard I try to daven, in the end my davening is full of thoughts—and those thoughts aren’t always about what I’m saying. We don’t always say the prayers with proper concentration and everything that goes with it. So the question really is: Is my davening worth anything? Does Hakadosh Boruch Hu listen to it? I understand that there are great tzaddikim whose prayers rise upward and break through the heavens. That’s why there are tzaddikim, holy and pure people whose prayers surely accomplish great things in heaven and on earth. But when I, a simple Jew, daven—barely managing to say the words and trying to concentrate here and there—is my davening worth anything? Is Hakadosh Boruch Hu actually listening to it? And sometimes we tell ourselves: Look, I daven and I ask, but I don’t see my davening accomplishing anything. I don’t see Hakadosh Boruch Hu answering my request. Each of us sometimes has particular requests, things we plead and daven for, and days, weeks, even months can go by without my seeing that the davening I offered has had any effect. Then this question enters our minds: What exactly is the power of davening? That’s what we’re going to talk about today—the power of davening. What power does the simple davening of a simple Jew, who says the words of the prayers, really have? What does davening accomplish? What is its power? Does Hakadosh Boruch Hu listen to every prayer? Does Hakadosh Boruch Hu answer every prayer? What is the power of davening? According to the teachings of Chassidus, the teachings of the Baal Shem Tov, what did the Baal Shem Tov reveal? Today we’ll hear about it and study

02:26 some sayings and teachings of the Baal Shem Tov and his students, and of Chassidus, about how they taught us the power of davening. We’ll go over several teachings from our Rebbeim, the Baal Shem Tov and his students, that will give us a new, deeper understanding of the power of our davening and of how every prayer we offer accomplishes great and wondrous things. We’ll begin to appreciate, respect, and treasure the moments we spend davening. And as usual, we’ll begin with a story. It’s a well-known story, but it opens a door to a deeper understanding of what the Baal Shem Tov revealed and explained to us, and it will bring us to the power of davening. The story took place on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. As everyone knows, each year on Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur the Baal Shem Tov would speak in defense of the Jewish people, daven, and plead for them. There are dozens of stories about how the Baal Shem Tov would ask, daven, and arouse mercy for the Jewish people. It’s told that once the Baal Shem Tov saw in heaven that a very severe decree had been issued against the Jewish people for that year. He exerted himself in davening, with great bitterness and tears, at great length. His students in the beis midrash, in the shul, saw his deep bitterness and tremendous effort—how intensely the Baal Shem Tov was davening. So of course they too did all they could, putting themselves into their davening with great strength and with tears. Their davening grew more and more intense. It was Yom Kippur. That was how it was on Yom Kippur night, and throughout Yom Kippur day as well. During the prayers they watched the Baal Shem Tov daven with the most intense concentration, and so the whole day passed. When they reached

04:58 Ne’ilah, the davening rose to outright cries. The Baal Shem Tov and his students exerted themselves and concentrated as deeply as they could, striving in their davening and asking Hakadosh Boruch Hu to have mercy on His people, Israel, and grant us a good and blessed year. Among the people there was a young boy from a nearby village. He had not grown up in cheder or attended school. He had not learned Torah; he could not read or write and did not know the alef-beis. He had grown up in the village, out in the fields among the animals. That was all he knew. He saw everyone davening and singing, davening with concentration, but he had nothing to say. He didn’t know the prayers or their words, yet he wanted to daven, to say something, to cry out too. The only sound he knew was the call of the animals he heard in the fields. So, overcome with emotion and enthusiasm, the boy cried out, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!”—the call of a rooster. That was all he knew. The shul fell silent. Suddenly they heard someone making the sound of a rooster. What was that doing here during Ne’ilah on Yom Kippur? But a moment later, they felt that something had changed. The Baal Shem Tov’s tone of davening suddenly changed. They sensed a certain lightness, a feeling of relief, in his voice. The Baal Shem Tov continued davening, and from then until the end of the Yom Kippur prayers, there was a feeling of ease, joy, and brightness. When the Yom Kippur prayers ended, the Baal Shem Tov turned to the congregation, the students and chassidim who filled the shul, and they saw

07:14 great joy on the Baal Shem Tov’s face. Later, at the meal after Yom Kippur, when they had broken their fast, the Baal Shem Tov sat with his students and told them that he wanted to explain what had happened. He told them that this Yom Kippur had been exceptionally difficult. There had been a severe decree in heaven. “I tried with all my strength and exerted myself in davening, asking and pleading for the decree to be annulled. I did not succeed. All the students’ prayers were tremendous, but I felt that we were unable to break through the wall. The decree was extremely severe, and the accusations against us were extremely strong. Then that innocent boy let out his cry of ‘Cock-a-doodle-doo,’ the call of a rooster. That innocence, the innocence of a simple Jew, broke through all the heavens. It overturned the entire decree and nullified all the accusations. In its merit, this year will be blessed, successful, and joyous.” The power of davening. There are many stories like this about the Baal Shem Tov, his students, and Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev—stories of simple Jews whose simple, heartfelt, innocent prayers brought about changes, annulled decrees, and broke through barriers. There is also an interesting story that the Frierdiker Rebbe discusses in one of his sichos, about how the Baal Shem Tov had the ability, the power, to take a simple, innocent remark by a Jew and sometimes bring about great transformations, deliverance, and blessings through it. One example he gives is of a time when the Baal Shem Tov heard one Jew speaking with another. They were talking about troubles, problems, and various difficulties the Jews were facing in that place at that time. The Baal Shem Tov heard one Jew say to the other, with such certainty, “Hakadosh Boruch…”

09:41 He will surely help. The Baal Shem Tov heard those words, and he said that when this Jew said, “Hakadosh Boruch Hu will surely help,” those words alone broke through great barriers of accusation. Decrees that had been issued in Heaven, G-d forbid, were overturned; the situation changed completely, and blessing and success flowed forth. That is the power a Jew has in his prayer. But what exactly is the nature of that power? I want to share a teaching of the Baal Shem Tov that gives us a deeper understanding of the power of a Jew’s prayer. The Baal Shem Tov discusses a teaching of our Sages in Tractate Gittin, in the well-known passage about the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. The Gemara tells the story of Kamtza and Bar Kamtza, which we all know, and how events led to the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. There is a statement there that, on the face of it, is very puzzling. The Gemara relates that Bar Kamtza brought to the Beis Hamikdash the offering he had received from the emperor. They considered offering it to avoid trouble, because they feared the decrees that might follow. But Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas, one of the Tannaim present, said not to do it. The Gemara concludes with Rabbi Yochanan’s words: “The humility of Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas destroyed our Sanctuary and exiled the Jewish people.” This is a very difficult Gemara. The Baal Shem Tov asks: Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas’s humility caused the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash? What does that mean? Humility is a wonderful trait, a good trait. The verse says:

12:10 “The man Moshe was exceedingly humble, more than any person on the face of the earth.” Humility is one of the greatest things. So how can the Gemara suddenly say that Rabbi Zechariah ben Avkulas’s humility destroyed the Beis Hamikdash? The Baal Shem Tov gives a wonderful answer. He says there is proper humility and there is improper humility. The humility spoken of in connection with Moshe Rabbeinu is a wonderful thing. It is the humility the Gemara discusses in Tractate Sotah: a Jew should conduct himself with humility, the opposite of arrogance. But there is also improper humility. What does he mean? A Jew must know the power of his prayer. A Jew must know that Hakadosh Boruch Hu waits and longs for words of prayer to come from his mouth. There is the well-known teaching of our Sages in Tractate Yevamos: “Hakadosh Boruch Hu longs for the prayers of the righteous.” Hakadosh Boruch Hu waits and longs for their prayers. And when it says “the righteous,” the Baal Shem Tov explains, it does not mean only particular tzaddikim. It means what the verse says: “Your people are all righteous.” Every Jew is included in “Your people are all righteous.” Every Jew’s prayer is immensely precious to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. All the worlds are sustained by prayer; the lofty angels, the higher worlds, and all creation wait and long for a Jew’s prayer. Of prayer it is said, “A ladder was set upon the earth, and its top reached Heaven.” As is well known, the Zohar says this verse speaks of prayer. Prayer is a ladder set upon the earth whose top reaches Heaven. The Baal Shem Tov says: A Jew is down here on earth, a soul in a physical body, in a physical world and physical circumstances—an ordinary person, with his whole existence here below. When that Jew says the words of prayer, the ladder is set upon the earth, and its top reaches

14:41 Heaven. His words reach above, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu stands waiting for the words of a Jew’s prayers. The Baal Shem Tov goes further, citing a verse in Tehillim: “Though you lie among the sheepfolds.” The word is written “sheepfolds,” but the Baal Shem Tov reads it as “lips.” He says that the holy Shechinah, the exalted King, G-d, is between a Jew’s lips. When any Jew, even the simplest Jew, says the words of prayer, the holy Shechinah is, as it were, between his lips, waiting for him to say a word of prayer. And the moment he prays, says the Baal Shem Tov, Hakadosh Boruch Hu kisses the mouth of the Jew saying those words, because all the worlds are waiting for that prayer. But a Jew may have humility of the improper kind. He says to himself: Who am I to matter? Am I important? Does my prayer mean anything? Is it worth anything? Because of that thought, that humility, he does not pray or put effort into his prayer. Even when he does pray, he does not pray as he should, because he does not believe in the power of his prayer. That is the humility of which the Gemara says that it “destroyed our House and burned our Sanctuary.” That is what caused the destruction of the Beis Hamikdash. For each of us has a Beis Hamikdash: it is the holy soul. Every Jew is a Beis Hamikdash. Through his prayers, he makes a Beis Hamikdash; he brings holiness into the world, draws the Shechinah down here, and brings goodness, light, and holiness into the world. But when I do not believe in my own power, when I think, “Who am I, and what am I, that my prayer should accomplish anything?” that itself can cause me, G-d forbid, not to

17:00 approach prayer in the right way. Then, instead of holiness and building, I cause destruction. A Jew must therefore know how precious and important his prayer is—how much Hakadosh Boruch Hu cares about, waits for, and needs the prayers of each and every Jew. How important is even a single word of his prayer? There is a teaching from the Maggid of Mezritch. The Maggid says that sometimes the simple words of a simple Jew, a simple word of prayer, have greater power than the prayer of a tzaddik. The Maggid of Mezritch gives a parable. He says: “The heart of kings is beyond searching.” A flesh-and-blood king—speaking of the great kings of earlier times—could be an extraordinary person, someone elevated and accomplished in all sorts of ways. But because such a king was so elevated, he might become detached from his people and lose interest: “Why should I trouble myself with all this business of dealing with the people, guiding them, and telling them what to do and how?” The king would become distant and removed, no longer involved with his people, and they would need to bring him back. How could they get the king to return to them, to be with them? If they brought a great sage to speak before him, that would not move him. Wisdom does not excite the king; he is an even greater sage. They could bring him all sorts of wisdom and knowledge, but he has no need for any of it. The Maggid explains that sometimes the way to awaken delight in the king—and thereby bring him back and reconnect him with

19:18 the people, sometimes it is precisely the simplest things. For example, they bring a parrot—“a talking bird,” in the words of the Maggid—and the parrot says a word or two. The fact that the parrot speaks brings a special kind of delight. It catches the king’s interest, and afterward he can be drawn back into all kinds of matters concerning the country, the people, and the most important affairs of the kingdom. Or sometimes it is a small child: the king plays with the child, and that brings him a special delight that draws him back to himself. The Maggid asks: What is the comparison? A great sage speaks words of wisdom and profound ideas. The bird, the parrot, says a word—and does not even say it well. There is no great or profound wisdom in that. Why does it arouse delight? Why does it make the king return to his people? The answer is that there is something novel here. When the great sage speaks, there is nothing surprising: he is a great sage, so of course he speaks. But when the bird speaks, when the parrot speaks, that is surprising. Because it is surprising, it makes a stir, brings delight, turns the king’s heart, and draws him back to them. The Maggid says that this idea of “the hearts of kings are beyond fathoming” applies to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. When we want to arouse a “may it be Your will” from Hakadosh Boruch Hu—that is what prayer is, arousing His will—to ask Him, to pray that He send down abundance and grant blessing in all material and spiritual matters, we might think we need something grand and lofty. But it is precisely the simple Jew, the simple words that come from the mouth of a simple Jew, words he says with a whole and sincere heart—those are the words that arouse Hakadosh Boruch Hu. Precisely a Jew,

21:53 a soul in a body, who spends the whole day running around, occupied with business and earning a living, with worries and burdens, preoccupied with all the affairs of this world—and then takes a siddur and stands up to pray. That very prayer accomplishes far more than all the other prayers. This is a wonderful insight into the depth of prayer, and it explains the power the Gemara attributes to Minchah. The Alter Rebbe explains this in connection with Minchah: the Gemara says, “A person should always be careful about the Minchah prayer, for even Eliyahu was answered only at Minchah.” Minchah has a special place in the story of Eliyahu Hanavi. There was that whole confrontation over idol worship—who was right, the worshippers of Baal or Eliyahu Hanavi? He said to them, “How long will you waver between two opinions?” They gathered on Mount Carmel, with four hundred prophets of Baal on one side and Eliyahu Hanavi on the other. They brought two bulls and set up two altars, one for Baal and one for Hashem. Then Eliyahu Hanavi stood there, in the remarkable account told in Tanach. The verse says, “And it was at the time of the Minchah offering”: when the time for Minchah came, Eliyahu Hanavi said his special prayer, “Answer me, Hashem, answer me,” so that they would know that Hashem is G-d. Then the fire came down, and everyone saw it and cried out, “Hashem is G-d! Hashem is G-d!” That was the historic event on Mount Carmel. The Gemara points specifically to Minchah as a time to take special care with prayer, a special time of favor. The Alter Rebbe asks: Why Minchah? What is special about it that Shacharis does not have? A person gets up fresh in the morning, awake, having just risen. He says a longer prayer and prays with enthusiasm. No—it is specifically Minchah, rather than Maariv at the end of the day, too. What is special about Minchah? The Alter Rebbe says: No, no, that is exactly what is so wonderful about Minchah.

24:05 Its difficulty is that it comes in the middle of the day, when a Jew is preoccupied with his business, running here and there, involved in a thousand things. Then he stops in the middle of a deal, in the middle of his rush, in the middle of his worries, in the middle of all that activity, and suddenly calls out, “Minchah! It’s time to pray; we have to pray now.” That is what is most precious to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. That break—the Jew having to pull himself away and suddenly leave all his business—and that cry of “Minchah! We have to pray Minchah!” arouse tremendous delight and satisfaction Above. This Minchah prayer, precisely because it is in the middle of the day, reaches the highest place, beneath the Throne of Glory, and causes Hakadosh Boruch Hu to answer our prayers. So what do we learn? What does Chassidus teach us? That the power of prayer does not lie specifically in lofty prayers and lofty intentions. The power of prayer lies in this sincerity: a Jew, as he is, in whatever state he is in, stands face to face with Hakadosh Boruch Hu, says the words of prayer, asks, and speaks his own words. How important and precious to Hakadosh Boruch Hu are the words of a simple Jew’s prayers, and how much they accomplish. And here, as we discussed, the question arises: If so, why don’t we see that we pray and immediately receive the blessing in the things we ask for? This applies to everything. The main question also concerns our prayers for the Geulah. Notice something interesting about the Amidah: it has eighteen blessings. In practice, it has nineteen, because the Sages added the blessing of Velamalshinim. The first three blessings are blessings of praise, and the last three are blessings of thanksgiving. So how many are left

26:25 for requests? There are thirteen blessings in which we make requests. Of those thirteen, almost half are requests for the Geulah. Look at the requests in the Amidah: in “Sound the great shofar,” we ask for the ingathering of the exiles. We ask for the return of the Sanhedrin in “Restore our judges.” Prayer after prayer, there are so many requests for the Geulah. And the question is: We have been praying for years upon years; for hundreds of years Jews have prayed and asked, saying, “May You speedily cause the offspring of David, Your servant, to flourish, and raise his glory through Your salvation.” We ask for the Geulah, for the rebuilding of Jerusalem, for the restoration of the Davidic kingdom. I do not see these prayers being answered. So what is the purpose of prayer? Where do we see the answer to our prayers? Do we just keep praying without seeing that Hakadosh Boruch Hu accepts our prayers? Here the holy Shelah offers a wonderful explanation. The holy Shelah, Rabbi Yeshayahu HaLevi Horowitz, was one of the great tzaddikim and Kabbalists. His book, Shnei Luchos Habris, was accepted throughout the Jewish world. He was one of the great Jewish sages after the Arizal, close to the Arizal’s era and before the Baal Shem Tov. He raises this question in his book and explains that every prayer accomplishes something. There is no such thing as a prayer that does nothing. Every prayer a Jew says accomplishes something. Prayer makes an impression Above, before Hakadosh Boruch Hu, and has an effect in a higher world. Sometimes the prayer descends into this lower world, and we see its physical effect with our own eyes. Sometimes it has an effect in a more spiritual world. But prayer always accomplishes something; there is no situation in which it does not. Regarding the Geulah, he says something wonderful: when a Jew prays for the Geulah, he brings Geulah into the world. It is true that we still do not see the Geulah

28:55 the final Geulah. But Geulah is really a process, a process that moves forward. Geulah has had an effect in all the worlds, and in fact all the worlds need Geulah. There is an ongoing process of Geulah. Every time a Jew prays and asks for Geulah, he breaks through another barrier, removes another obstacle, and brings another aspect of Geulah into the world. “One sheep among seventy wolves,” says the holy Shelah, citing the teaching of our Sages. Jews are in exile, one sheep among seventy wolves. When a Jew prays and asks for Geulah, in that merit Hakadosh Boruch Hu protects Jews everywhere in the world. So the fact that we are in exile, surrounded by enemies on every side, and Hakadosh Boruch Hu protects us, is not something to take for granted. It is the result of a Jew’s prayer, asking Hakadosh Boruch Hu for Geulah. The Chida offers a wonderful explanation of the prayer we say in the Amidah: “May You speedily cause the scion of David Your servant to flourish, and raise his glory through Your salvation, for we have hoped for Your salvation all day long.” So the Shelah—rather, the Chida, Rabbi Chaim Yosef David Azulai, who was one of the great Jewish sages two hundred years ago, lived in Jerusalem and was a student of the holy Or Hachaim. He writes: What does it mean, “May You speedily cause the scion of David Your servant to flourish, for we have hoped for Your salvation all day long”? What exactly are we saying here? Because we have waited for You? Is that an explanation? Is it a reason? How do we understand the wording of this prayer? “May You speedily cause the scion of David Your servant to flourish, for…” For what? Because we deserve it? Because we did something? Because—no, “for we have hoped for Your salvation all day long.” So he says something wonderful. He says that in this prayer we are stating the reason Hakadosh Boruch Hu should bring Geulah to the Jewish people. Why do we deserve Geulah? “May You speedily cause the scion of David Your servant to flourish”

31:27 “and raise his glory through Your salvation.” Do you know why? “For we have hoped for Your salvation all day long.” He cites a Midrash that says that in the merit of hoping—in the merit of Jews praying, hoping and looking forward to Geulah—that itself is what will bring us the reward of Hakadosh Boruch Hu bringing us Geulah. That is the power of a Jew’s prayer: the very fact that a Jew prays and asks Hakadosh Boruch Hu is itself the reason and the power that brings Geulah. I remember when I was a young bochur, in 5746. The Rebbe spoke in several sichos about this teaching of the Chida, about this Midrash, and asked that it be publicized everywhere. There was something very interesting then: the Rebbe asked people to write. Everyone should try to tell at least ten more people, creating a chain to spread the message. In today’s modern world, there are all sorts of ways for things to spread extremely quickly. But that was still the era of the telephone—the telephone before the cell phone. So publicity took the older forms, like letters. The Rebbe asked everyone to write ten letters to publicize this idea, to spread the words of this novel teaching of the Midrash: the power of hope, the power of prayer. When a Jew asks and prays to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, his prayer has an effect. I was privileged to be at a farbrengen of the Rebbe in 5747, on Shabbos Parshas Vayigash. It was a wonderful farbrengen, full of joy and very, very moving. Those were the days of a victory concerning the sefarim connected to the Rebbe. There had been a difficult court case over the sefarim of the Frierdiker Rebbe, and then the victory over the sefarim brought tremendous joy to the chassidim. The Rebbe in particular was very, very happy that the sefarim would return to their place. Chassidim came from all over the world, and the Rebbe held a farbrengen that Shabbos. It was a very uplifting farbrengen, and I remember

33:52 that at that farbrengen the Rebbe spoke about how we are on the threshold of Geulah. He spoke with great passion, warmth and emotion about how each and every one of us needs to know that Moshiach is already at the door, and it depends on us—on one more deed, one more word, one more thought. Among the things I remember is the cry from the depths of the Rebbe’s heart. He said that we are already at the point described in the Gemara in Sanhedrin: “All the appointed times have passed.” They have already passed; all the… all the appointed times have already passed, and Moshiach should have been here long ago. What is going on? So much Torah, so many good deeds, and thousands of years of Jews in exile—ad mosai? The Rebbe said that the Gemara in Yevamos teaches that Hakadosh Boruch Hu yearns for the prayers of the righteous, and “Your people are all righteous.” When a Jew prays to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, it gives Him the greatest pleasure. So, the Rebbe said, we can say that Hakadosh Boruch Hu is waiting for one more Jew to pray, to plead and ask, to cry “Ad mosai?” from the heart, asking Hakadosh Boruch Hu to take us out of exile. With one more prayer, Moshiach comes immediately. These are words I was privileged to hear from the Rebbe’s own holy mouth. The power our prayers have to bring salvation to the entire Jewish people—that is the power of prayer. So this is what we need to take with us: to know and understand that our prayers are precious to Hakadosh Boruch Hu. I’ll finish with one more teaching of the Baal Shem Tov on this subject. Following what we discussed last week about the ark, when the Baal Shem Tov revealed that the whole story of Noach’s ark is connected to the words of Torah and prayer: “Come into the ark”—enter into the words of prayer. “Make a window for the ark”—bring light into prayer. Prayer with enthusiasm, with light. So the Baal Shem Tov has a teaching on these words. Continuing with this whole subject of prayer, the Baal Shem Tov says

36:04 that tzohar, “window,” has the same letters as tzarah, “trouble.” The letters can be rearranged—those same three letters—to form tzarah, tzohar and ratzah, “willed.” The Baal Shem Tov says—and the Frierdiker Rebbe brings this teaching in his maamarim in the name of the Baal Shem Tov—that when a Jew prays, he has this power. Ratzah refers to “May it be Your will.” It is the Jew’s desire as he asks for the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu. When a Jew prays and prays, and through his prayer arouses the Supernal Will, the will of Hakadosh Boruch Hu, then even a simple Jew has the power through prayer to turn tzarah into tzohar, to transform the trouble itself into a source of light. It’s like the story of—what was his name?—Nachum Ish Gam Zu. In the merit of his prayer, in the merit of his “This too is for the good,” the very earth they had put in his chest became the means by which he brought about the annulment of the decree. The trouble itself turned into a source of light. The Baal Shem Tov says the same thing about the verse, “It is a time of trouble for Yaakov, and from it”—from it, from the trouble itself—“he will be saved.” But how do we bring that about? Through the power of prayer. When a Jew prays to Hakadosh Boruch Hu, his prayer gives him the ability to turn the trouble into a source of light, so that light emerges from the trouble itself. May Hakadosh Boruch Hu help us truly see all the troubles in the world turn into light. May there be light already, light in all their dwellings. May we merit the true light, and may everything we ask for in prayer each and every day be fulfilled: “May You speedily cause the scion of David Your servant to flourish,” and the prayer we say on Shabbos as well: “May our eyes behold Your return to Zion in mercy,” with the complete Geulah through our righteous Moshiach. Amen, may it be His will.