From Your Mouth

You probably know that I've been sick. I don't hide it, and I don't hide from it. What is, is.

One of the results of my malady is a biweekly visit to the clinic for chemotherapy, and I leave with a bottle of poison attached to me by a tube. I carry the bottle around for a couple of days before it is disconnected. The carrying is in a pouch attached to a belt, and I'm nervous that something I do will cause everything to fall apart. It probably won't, but I remain nervous. I usually don't leave the house during the two days I'm receiving the medication, though I must admit the side-effects are milder than I anticipated. (I had some nerve damage from a previous drug, but that's been discontinued, and I'm scheduled to receive treatment for those effects.)

But, in the words of W. C. Fields, “I digress.” What I really want to note is that because of the treatment I won't be saying Kaddish for my mother on her yahrzeit in a few days. That requires a minyan and I'll be staying home. (For those who don't understand, that means I won't be saying the prayer for the dead which is ordinarily recited on the anniversary of someone's passing. For that, according to the laws of Judaism, I need a group of ten men, which would require a trip to synagogue. Since that would take place during the time I stay home, I'll miss it this year.) The purpose of the prayer is to elevate the soul of the deceased, and I regret missing the opportunity to do so.

Yesterday I brought in to synagogue the name of a friend who is ill. I'll recite my own prayers for her health, but a more formal prayer is offered by the synagogue for the recovery of those who are sick, and I wanted her to have this as well. So I submitted her name.

Such sentiments are not restricted to my religion. How often has someone who is going through a difficult situation said “Pray for me?” It doesn't matter what we believe. We seek the support of those we love, and of others too. And we offer it as well. Even to those who are no longer with us. We're told by our sages that our prayers are valuable to those in need, and, by this means, we help those whom we love. Can we do otherwise?

But I wonder about the validity of this teaching. And I wonder whether my prayers have any effect. I'm not questioning my religion itself, or that of others, but I still have questions regarding the usefulness of the practice. It seems to me that ultimate rewards and punishments are based on the actions, good and bad, of the individual involved, not whether others try to use their influence to improve conditions for others, alive or dead. The most evil of people will sometimes influence others to love them, and, by doing so, inspire prayers when they seem to be appropriate.

Have those prayers any effect? (Especially if they don't really reflect the reality of the virtues of the subject?) Can the words of humans change G-d's decisions? Are such decisions reflective of predetermined actions? Do the wishes of the living affect the treatment of the dead?

The question, however, is much bigger. Its repercussions extend far beyond our wishes for those who are suffering, or for those whose suffering is over. The question involves us, and for most of us our own well-being is of greater consequence than that of anyone else. Of course there are exceptions, but the rule remains.

The issue relates to prayer in general. Has it any value? Do human words affect people's standing in the “eyes” of G-d? We believe that G-d knows our thoughts, so our words are not only unnecessary, but poor reflections of our intentions. Indeed, we also believe that G-d knows our intent before we do. Which makes our mouthing (or thinking) of our hopes and wishes, of our intents and desires, our praises and thanks, of little value.

Formal prayer is more for our own psychological benefit than for any improvement in our condition or that of others. And when we pray in the presence of others during a formal service, we display a discipline and a determination to ourselves as well as to others. Perhaps there is free will rather than (in addition to?) predetermination, and perhaps our words and our actions do matter. Perhaps that discipline, and those words and actions, are aimed at helping others. Surely G-d would reward that, even if He knew in advance that it would happen. Perhaps the reward would be our own satisfaction at having done what is right. Perhaps, our prayers for those who are no longer with us actually have a positive effect, as we hope the prayers for us of those who follow will have.

Or perhaps they, and all other prayers, only benefit us. I don't know, but, G-d willing, I'll say Kaddish for my mother next year.

May 2, 2017