Some people see the human being as a lonely creature in an indifferent and
even hostile universe. They need to look deeper, for the two are essentially
one: The soul of man is G-dly and the soul of the universe is G-d. Only in their
outward expression does a conflict appear -- or even that which may resemble
indifference. But within is a love affair, an eternal, inseparable embrace. It
is a drama King Solomon entitled "The Song of Songs," for it is what lies at the
core of every song, every human expression and all the cosmos: The longing to
reunite, to be one, to create a harmony in the outer world that matches the
perfect union that lies beneath.
This, too, is the work of prayer: We have our concerns. G-d seems so distant
from them. There is a vast chasm between our world and His. But then He says,
"Speak to me about what bothers you. Tell me with all your heart what you desire
and I will listen. For what is important to you is important to me. Speak to me.
I wish to dwell within your world."
The chasm merges and seals. Outer and inner, higher and lower, spiritual and
physical, holy and mundane, heaven and earth kiss and become one.
There is a condition, however, to this healing of lovers' hearts: That first
we must find the inner sanctity that lies behind our own desires and strife. For
there is nothing of this world that does not contain a Divine spark, no movement
of the soul without G-dly purpose.
Only once we have made this peace within ourselves, between our inner souls
and our outer desires, between the sanctuary of our hearts and the words of our
lips, only then can we create this cosmic peace between the Essence of All Being
and our busy, material world.
This is why prayer is called throughout the Psalms "an outpouring of the
soul." That which lies within pours outward, with no dam to obstruct it, no mud
to taint it, nothing to change it along the way. The entire world may be ripping
apart at the seams, but the beseecher's heart and mouth are at peace as one. And
then that peace spreads outward into all things.
There are many things we learn from the prayer of Chana (recounted in
Samuel I, Chapter 1 and read as the
Haftorah for the 1st day of Rosh Hashanah).
We learn that our lips must move in prayer, that we must be able to hear our own
prayer but no one else should. We learn that prayer is to be said standing. But
most important, we learn how to pour out our soul.
Eli thought Chana was drunk with wine. He was the High Priest, the holiest of
the Jewish nation. The Divine Spirit rested upon him and he was able to see
within the hearts of men and women. Yet, he saw Chana as a drunkard -- drunk
with a worldly desire, a desire for a child so she would no longer suffer the
shame and ridicule afforded her by Penina.
But Chana answered, "No, it is not wine but my soul that pours out to G-d.
For my desire for a child has purpose and meaning beyond the pursuits and
follies of man. My child, the precious jewel of my heart's desire, I have
already given him to G-d."
So it is with our prayers: We pray for material things, but it is not the
material, but the spiritual within them that our soul desires.
The mission of every human being is to bring the many things of this chaotic
world into harmony with their inner purpose and the oneness that underlies them.
To do this, each of us must have those things related to our mission: our
family, our health, our homes, our income. We pray for these things from the
innermost of our hearts; our soul pours out for them -- because our soul knows
that without them she cannot fulfill her mission in this world.
And G-d listens. Because He wishes to dwell within our mundane world.