A fellow was boasting about what a good citizen he was and what a refined,
disciplined lifestyle he led. "I don't smoke, I don't drink, I don't gamble, I
don't cheat on my wife, I am early to bed and early to rise, and I work hard all
day and attend religious services faithfully." Very impressive, right? Then he
added, "I've been like this for the last five years, but just you wait until
they let me out of this place!"
Although prisons were not really part of the Jewish judicial system, there
were occasions when individuals would have their freedom of movement curtailed.
One such example was the City of Refuge. If a person was guilty of manslaughter
(i.e., unintentional murder) the perpetrator would flee to one of the specially
designated Cities of Refuge throughout Biblical Israel where he was given safe
haven from the wrath of a would-be avenging relative of the victim.
The Torah tells us that his term of exile would end with the death of the
Kohen Gadol, the High Priest. The Talmud tells of an interesting practice
that developed. The mother of the Kohen Gadol at the time would make a point of
bringing gifts of food to those exiled so that they should not pray for the
early demise of her son, to which their own freedom was linked.
Now this is very strange. Here is a man who, though not a murderer, is not
entirely innocent of any negligence either. The rabbis teach that G-d does not
allow misfortune to befall the righteous. If this person caused a loss of life,
we can safely assume that he is less than righteous. Opposite him stands the
High Priest of Israel, noble, aristocratic and, arguably, the holiest Jew alive.
Of the entire nation, he alone had the awesome responsibility and privilege of
entering the inner sanctum of the Holy Temple, the "Holy of Holies," on the holy
day of Yom Kippur. Do we really have reason to fear that the prayers of this
morally tainted prisoner will have such a negative effect on the revered and
exalted High Priest, to the extent that the Kohen Gadol may die? And his poor
mother has to go and shlep food parcels to distant cities to soften up
the prisoner so he should go easy in his prayers so that her holy son may live?
Does this make sense?
But such is the power of prayer--the prayer of any individual, noble or
ordinary, righteous or even sinful.
Of course, there are no guarantees. Otherwise, I suppose, Shuls around the
world would be overflowing daily. But we do believe fervently in the power of
prayer. And though, ideally, we pray in Hebrew and with a congregation, the most
important ingredient for our prayers to be successful is sincerity. "G-d wants
the heart," we are taught. The language and the setting are secondary to the
genuineness of our prayers. Nothing can be more genuine than a tear shed in
prayer.
By all means, learn the language of our Siddur, the prayer book. Improve your
Hebrew reading so you can follow the services and daven with fluency.
But remember, most important of all is our sincerity. May all our prayers be
answered.