The Most Important Jewish Book

In a speech on prayer, the 20th century Jewish scholar Henry Slonimsky described the siddur as “the most important single Jewish book, a closer record of Jewish sufferings, Jewish needs, Jewish hopes and aspirations than the Bible itself, which… [has had] whatever is quintessentially needed for daily use . . . squeezed out of it into the Prayer Book.”

One such “squeezing” comes from this week’s parashah, Ekev, in particular Devarim 10:17: “For Adonai your God is God of gods and Lord of lords, ha’el ha’gadol ha’gibor v’ha’norah - God the great, the mighty, and the awesome…”

You might recognize those words from the opening prayer of the Amidah, known as Avot v’Imahot (“the ancestors”). Curiously, several controversies swirl around the use of this phrase in prayer.

First, we find this story in the Talmud (Megillah 25a):

A certain person descended in the presence of Rabbi Chanina [to lead prayer]. 

He said: God, the great, the mighty, the awesome, the powerful, and the strong, and the fearless. 

Rabbi Chanina said to him: Have you concluded all of the [possible] praises of your Master? Even the three that we recite (the great, the mighty, and the awesome), had Moses our teacher not written them in the Torah and had the members of the Great Assembly not come and incorporated them, we would not be able to recite them. And you went on and recited all of these! 

It is comparable to a man who possessed many thousands of golden dinars, yet they were praising him for a thousand silver ones. Isn’t that deprecatory toward him?

The lesson here is that to praise God should be a subtle endeavor, because in attempting to praise, one might use words that say too little. Our perception and our language reach their limits in comprehending and articulating the divine. Limiting the language we use to praise God therefore reminds us of all that we cannot say, rather than being seduced into thinking we have said enough. The only reason we use the phrase with three descriptors of God is because it is in the Torah.

In this story, prayer is about attempting to say something about ultimate reality, and remembering to stay humble about our ability to do so.

There is another story, however, also in the Talmud (Yoma 69b), where the words say too much rather than too little. 

Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: Why were they called the members of the Great Assembly? It is because they returned the crown (of God) to its former (glory). 

Moses came and said: “God, the great, the mighty, and the awesome” (Deuteronomy 10:17). Jeremiah came and said: Gentiles, (i.e., the minions of Nebuchadnezzar), are carousing in His sanctuary; where is His awesomeness? Therefore, he did not say awesome: “The great God, the mighty Lord of Hosts, is God’s name” (Jeremiah 32:18). Daniel came and said: Gentiles are enslaving God’s children; where is God’s might? Therefore he did not say mighty: “The great and awesome God” (Daniel 9:4). 

Think about this teaching for a moment. Its implications are radical. Moses describes the God he can perceive (and believe in?), but when later great Jewish leaders describe God, they omit language that they see contradicted by their real-world experience. Their prayers are not the chutzpadik attempt to put into terms a limitless God, but rather the chutzpadik idea that we should only pray using language that reinforces what we see in the world - language that recognizes divine limitation! Jeremiah and Daniel, in playing with prayer-language, attempt to open eyes and hearts to suffering in the world, turning Torah and prayer into vessels of change.

The Talmudic text continues (you can read it here), but for now, let’s return to Henry Slonimsky’s reflection on the siddur.

It is the most important single Jewish book, a closer record of Jewish sufferings, Jewish needs, Jewish hopes and aspirations than the Bible itself, which… [has had] whatever is quintessentially needed for daily use . . . squeezed out of it into the Prayer Book.

Within the prayerbook, we have a teacher in tethering ourselves to tradition, an ally in engaging in heart-honest activism, and a rich resource for remaining resilient in a world where there are many sufferings, many needs, many hopes, and many aspirations. 

Shabbat shalom!

Rabbi Jay LeVine