Rabbi Breit's Blog

I’ve never connected so deeply to our liturgy as I did this past Sunday. In part it was the ruach of Simchat Torah as we whirled in circles and shouted and sang. In part it was the joy of kindergartners visibly delighting in huggable plushie torahs. But mostly it was the feeling of breaking. A part of me had broken apart. Our people have been attacked and our family thrust into war and the sense of safety, bubbly enthusiasm, and joviality I usually live by was gone. But in that space I felt our liturgy move through me more powerfully than ever.

We begin each day with birkot hashachar, the morning blessings. On that morning, wrapped in my tallis, I blessed our God sh’asani yisrael, who made me a Jew. We blessed our God who releases the bound, who strengthens Israel with courage, and crowns Israel with glory. In unison we said “amen” to bless God who has compassion for his people Israel.

We have the power to remind God who God has promised to be. It is how Abraham argues with God. It is how Moses secures us God’s forgiveness. When we bless God, we remind God who God is. You are the one who crowns Israel with glory. As we stood in our sanctuary on Sunday morning, I felt electrified by our communal demand of blessing that God have compassion for Israel.

There are still more prayers of communal grief. On Yom Kippur we read the list of thousands of years of martyrs. On Shemini Atzeret we sing for rain, reminding God of our blood spilled like water. As we stomped and spun around the social hall crying “aneinu, aneinu, b’yom qoreinu”, hear us, hear us, on the day we cry out, I felt less alone in my grief in singing together.

There are prayers that remind us of hope. When we sing “ozi v’zimrat ya vayhi li li’shua” in the Song of the Sea, we remember that God gives us the power of song, and of strength, to save.

There are prayers for channeling our anger. We call out to God in psukei d’zimra, the opening morning prayers, “el neqamot adonai, el neqamot hofiya”, God of vengeance, Adonai, God of vengeance, reveal yourself. My anger is not enough. My anger is not a solution. Please God, let our anger be yours. I do not trust my anger, but I do trust yours.

It is not often that our whole foundation is rattled. Thank God. But what shakes you to your core reveals what is beneath, a bedrock of strength and of purpose. It connects each of us to one another. May it keep us brave, compassionate, and safe.

This Shabbat, when we stand up to pray, before we turn silently to God in the Amidah, give yourself a moment to sing out — sing loudly, with anger or with grief, with hope, with fear, to remind God who God is, and to remind us who we are:

tzur yisrael, quma b’ezrat yisrael
uf’deih khinumekha y’hudah v’yisrael
go’aleinu adonai tzva’ot sh’mo, k’dosh yisrael
barukh atah adonai, ga’al yisrael

Stronghold of the people Israel, arise and help Israel.
Redeem, as You promise, Judah and Israel.
Our redeemer is named God of Armies, the Holy One of Israel.
Blessed are you Adonai, who liberates Israel. Amen.