Prayer

I love my (Jewish) heritage and its rites and rituals. I try to recite the prescribed liturgy, davening [praying] three times a day. But there is one prayer that contains a verse that confuses me. I don't really understand what it is saying. (There are others of course, but they are not the subjects of today's effort.) I'm fairly sure that I have, in the past, admitted to my difficulties with our prayers, but I want to use this example to illustrate one particular thing that is giving me trouble.

The prayer is called Tachanun, and one version or another is said on most days. The verse in question, originally from Samuel II, has been translated as Let us fall into Hashem's [G-d's] hand for His mercies are abundant, but let me not fall into human hands. The statement is by David, and the translation is by “Rabbi Artscroll,” a term used both approvingly and satirically to characterize the interpretations found in a series of books by Artscroll, the publisher of many books, all adhering to a fairly rigorous rendition of Jewish law. I suspect that there are many explanations of this verse in our literature, but, for me, they are all closed books.

There are many problems that can be related to this apparently simple and straightforward verse, and they are ones that are universal, but I'll focus on an apparent distinction between two types of punishment – one which is merciful and one which, presumably, isn't – and that one of the punishments, though likely to be longer, is more desirable than the other. The verse is followed by another that pleads for mercy, asking Hashem to accept our prayers and grant us compassionate treatment. The implication is that our fates are decided at the last minute and our prayers can cause Hashem to change plans for us.

It's generally accepted that, until the moment of our death, we can repent for sins we committed and we'll be forgiven. And every year, on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement, we seek the same forgiveness, in the hope that our lot in the following year will be better than it might have been. We assume that our destiny is changeable, while we simultaneously believe that G-d knows, and has always known, what is going to happen – that is, our future is determined even before we pray. And that's because He knows what we will do – whether or not we pray for mercy. It's a common construction, but it raises the issues of free will, omniscience, predetermination, Divine control, and others. The idea is comforting, however, and it's easy to ignore those issues.

But back to the focus. And that is the question regarding punishment inflicted by man and that originating from G-d. The words expressing preference from David suggest that Divine punishments are more merciful than those of man. One might wonder if a “natural” death, one often prolonged, is better than a sudden, traumatic one inflicted on us by one of our fellows. The verse, however, could be understood to indicate a belief that the latter implies torture and pain while the former is accompanied by comfort. We'll never really know David's thinking on the subject.

The proposed possibilities, though, miss the point. Our heritage teaches us that G-d controls everything – the events that we consider good and what we deem “bad.” So, if that is the case, both of the punishments about which David ponders are Divine in origin. We have learned that evil people may be made agents of G-d and used to perform evil deeds that promote His “agenda.” They do so of their own “free will” and are punished for their acts, but they are acts which G-d controls. And penalties are warranted both for the one being punished and the one doing the punishing, for he will suffer both for this act and for his other evil behavior.

But if we accept the idea that all punishments in fact reflect G-d's will and are under His control, how do we explain David's statement? Certainly he understood “the system” better than we. He surely would have known that whatever happened to him, whether by “Hashem's hand” or by “human hands” reflected G-d's will, and while he might hope for the former, he couldn't change what was to be. The only reasonable interpretation isn't an interpretation at all, but that it was a literal expression of his prayer, for, as he put it, His mercies are abundant, and David was both expressing his desire for mercy and his faith in Hashem, as he did in Psalm 145 – You open Your hand, and satisfy the desire of every living thing.

It's our hope as well. Most of us aren't masochists, and, while we know that death is inevitable, we don't want to suffer. That's our hope, but G-d has already decided, and all we can do is to act in a way that will justify it having been a favorable decision.





March 10, 2017