Middle Men

And women. Especially in Catholicism. That's a little vague and requires some explanation. However you've probably figured out that the subject for today's disquisition originates in religion.

The primary point of concern relates to those to whom men (and women) refer their prayers. By this we usually have in mind G-d, and the Saints to whom many pray, seeking their help in particular circumstances. And while such appeals are usually addressed to G-d, in this particular instance the petitions are to humans. Admittedly the individuals in question have been carefully vetted for their positions of responsibility, and are believed to have helped others through their demonstrated ability to perform miracles. They have shown that even before they were granted sainthood, an appeal to them was efficacious.

Judaism, however, forbids the short-circuiting of the system. It prohibits substitutes. There are no intermediaries. Prayers are only for G-d, and there are no humans – nor others – to whom we pray. There is one G-d, and no other power exists for the purpose of attaining His mercy. Hence such prayers are prohibited. There are some that have made their way into the Jewish liturgy (eg Machnisei Rachamim in Selichos) but most authorities either explain them away or have substitutions for them, lest people have the impression that there are others besides G-d capable of granting our entreaties.

It's certainly not an ability within the realm of human competence. An appeal to “pray for me” suggests that there are individuals whose influence is great enough that even if they cannot grant our wishes, they are reliable conduits. The same is true in the common expression “from your mouth to G-d's ear.” Its anthropomorphic character is, itself, problematic, but the overall nature of the request suggests a power greater than any human possesses. (Indeed, it is noted that one of the principles of faith, as codified by the Rambam, explicitly opposes the practice. As the Rambam writes: “It is only fitting to pray to God and it is not fitting to pray to any other.” – Rabbi Ari Enkin in Torah Musings [on line].)

The prayers of another, either human or angelic, on your behalf, then, would seem to be not only useless, but heretical. Yet we do it all the time. Reward and punishment would logically be induced by the actions of the individual in question – if not by his results of those actions, at least by the intent. But in Judaism we address to the Machnisei Rachamim (those who deliver the prayers) an appeal to the angels that they assist us by personally presenting our prayers and supplications before G-d – Rabbi Ari Enkin.

We ask them to pray for us – or at least deliver our prayers – as we pray for others. We say prayers for the sick, seeking their recovery from illness; we say prayers on the anniversary of the deaths of dear ones; and we recite similar prayers several times a year at services of remembrance (Yizkor). To a degree we're offering a bribe to G-d, promising a charitable donation along with our appeal. And we ask others, often on line, to join in our entreaty. Those others may not even know the individual for whom they are praying, but we hope that their numbers will add weight to our plea.

I'm sure that such behavior is not limited to Judaism, and that others share the view that the prayers of humans can affect the actions of the Deity. It's something we want to believe, but we have no assurance of its effectiveness. It's more to please ourselves – to affirm that we care about the other party, and we're taking whatever steps we can to improve his lot, whether he is living or dead. If it helps him, great. If not, at least we tried.

And while we maintain that there are no intermediaries in our religion – certainly none like Catholic priests who “channel” forgiveness of sins – a blessing of the congregation by Kohanim is part of many services, and we sought their offering of sacrifices on our behalf in the days of the Temple. But harking back to our early history, Moses shouldn't be overlooked. He was the first to act as a middle man between G-d and the Jewish People, carrying tablets with G-d's words to those people. There was no interpretation – and none necessary – of those words. In addition, over the millennia our sages have “interpreted” G-d's words to us. They have spoken “for” Him, acting as a kind of intermediary from Him to us. 

How do we rationalize these acts? Many don't, and they claim that the inconsistencies of our religion are based on the fact that it was created by humans, and is not transcendent. At the other end of the spectrum are those who maintain that G-d gave some wise men the understanding of His ways, and we are to follow them, irrespective of our own level of knowledge. And there are many views in between.

My approach is that of ignorance; I believe that it is my responsibility to make my appeals directly to G-d (and lacking any other explanation for existence than the non-rational, I believe in some Power beyond human discernment) even though I don't always understand what is required of me. And for that I rely on our traditions. I may be right or I may be wrong, but I believe that no one can act or speak on my behalf and, in the end, I am responsible for my own actions and, for the rewards or punishments which befall me.

But I'm sufficiently inconsistent to continue to offer my own prayers on behalf of those I know who are in need. I'd like to believe they help. I guess that makes me a middle man.

Or maybe a muddled man.