HOW TO ENSURE THAT OUR TEFILLOS ARE ANSWERED
In Parshas Matos, Hashem commands Moshe to take revenge on the Midianites, and Moshe assembles an army of 3,000 men from each tribe (Bamidbar Rabba 22:3), 36,000 in all. Of each group of 3,000, 1,000 men set out to battle, another 1,000 men guarded the fighters’ supplies, and another 1,000 men stood near the battlefield to pray for the soldiers.
Why did each soldier need to have one Jew davening alongside for him? First of all, shouldn’t all the Jews be davening for the soldiers’ victory? Secondly, why did this limited group have to daven right near the battlefield?
Rav Chaim Shmuelevitz answers that for a tefilla to be effective, it must stem from the depths of one’s heart. If one does not truly feel pain over what he is asking, his prayer is less likely to be answered. Therefore, it was important that the daveners stand alongside the soldiers and experience their hardships, each man feeling that his counterpart was out on the battlefield instead of him. In our experience as well, Rav Shmuelevitz would advise that before praying for a sick person’s recovery, first visit the sick person and see what he is undergoing. This will help you feel his pain and enable your prayers to be heard.
Rav Pinkus adds that in his silent prayer, if a person feels pain to the extent that within his heart comes forth a shout, such a prayer is guaranteed to be answered. He bases this on the Zohar (Shmos page 20), which states that tza’aka, a scream within the heart, is able to rip up harsh, divine decrees and take control of Hashem’s strict judgment — in this world and the next.
It may sound exaggerated, but Rav Pinkus explains this with an analogy: A father is so angry at his son that he throws him out of the house. If his son whines to himself outside, his father will be unmoved. However, if he hears his son shout: “Father! A lion is coming to attack me! Save me!” — any father would come to his son’s rescue immediately.
This is the response Hashem promises for a heart that shouts out to Him.
Rav Pinkus adds that we should reach this level of emotion not only for matters of life and death. All our prayers are expected to elicit a shout from the heart. When we ask for Torah and teshuva, we should realize that for a Jew, these are essential parts of life. To live bereft of Torah and teshuva is to be more dead than alive. How can we be quiet about this, or ask Hashem for them with indifference! We need health and livelihood; therefore our heart should shout out for them! Particularly now during the Three Weeks, the lack of the Beis Hamikdash should bring forth a shout from our hearts. How could we possibly not cry over this, as it states in Sotah (48a) that without the Beis Hamikdash, the curse of each day is worse than that of the previous day? All of our day-to-day troubles stem from this.
Many of us find it difficult to daven with kavana, but Rav Pinkus sees this as laziness. If a person puts in enough thought to realize that this very moment is an eis tzara, a time of distress for himself and the Jewish People as a whole, this should spur him to put his whole heart into his davening. Even those who are very far from Hashem and His mitzvos can turn to Him in fervent prayer when they feel themselves to be in danger.
Our shout to the heart should not stem from desperation, however. On the contrary, even as we cry out we should feel a sense of optimism that Hashem will hear our prayers and accept them. Indeed, the Chofetz Chaim notes that joy is obligatory for every prayer (Mishna Berura 1:10). We can feel joy in davening by strengthening our belief that we are standing before the All-powerful Creator of the world, who certainly hears us and can bring an end to all of our troubles. This belief, and the optimism that goes with it, are essential to our prayers.
An esteemed talmid chacham confided to Rav Yitzchak Zilberstein that he had once gone to a gadol and begged his help for a long list of hardships, among them health, child-raising, financial problems and more. As he was describing his difficulties he broke down and cried.
“Tell me,” asked the gadol, “Did you daven to Hashem about this?
The talmid chacham was taken back.
“Of course I davened!” he replied in anguish.
“What I meant is, did you daven the way a Jew is supposed to daven. Did you feel that Hashem can really help you?”
The talmid chacham admitted that he saw no hope for his situation. There were too many problems, with too many complications. Inside, he had already given up.
“The gadol advised me to put into my davening a sense of emuna, that Hashem is capable of solving all of my problems, even if it seemed to me that the situation was hopeless. Slowly, I started adding this intent to my davening, and you know what? Things began getting better.”
May we be zoche to pray to Hashem with a shout from the heart!
Exciting news! Rabbi Krieger will soon be publishing a sefer featuring the “best” of the weekly Parsha sheet. If you would like to share in this celebration, please go to www.bircas.org for further details.