Let's Shmooze About Davening

Those who indulge in conversation must be convinced that they are not being fair to themselves. If the obligations of bein adam laMakom (between man and G-d) and bein adam lechaveiro (interpersonal commands) are not compelling enough on their own, perhaps we could reach them by stressing the obligations bein adam le'atzmo - we simply owe it to ourselves to daven better. The addicted talkers should be led to discover that they are missing the genuine joy of davening. What concrete steps can be taken to achieve this? [back to top of page]

It would seem that if we knew what we're saying when we daven and why, we would become more involved in our tefilla. What better time to begin doing this than at the beginning? Wouldn't it make a significant difference if the yeshivos and Bais Yaakov schools would start teaching the meaning of the words of davening in the primary grades? With a relatively minimal investment of time, young children can be taught the literal meaning of the words of the tefillos. By the time they become bar or bas mitzva, children can attain an understanding of the basic tefillos that they recite weekdays and on Shabbos. (A good start in this direction is a contest on kavana be'tefilla, sponsored by Pirchei Agudath Israel, which has involved the participation of some 6,000 boys, grades 6-8, in 10 yeshivos these past two years. A total of 1,200 boys entered the actual competition.)

Those adults who have not learned these fundamentals in yeshiva can form small study groups to meet once a week and systematically study the words of davening, or arrange for a regular shiur on tefilla. It is a sad commentary that of the 570 shiurim listed in the Flatbush Guide to Shiurim recently published by Agudath Israel of America, not one was a shiur on tefilla. We are blessed with Siddurim that translate davening into Hebrew and English, along with extensive commentary, and we should make liberal use of them. Shuls and private libraries should expand their collection of seforim on tefilla. A contemporary author of a sefer on tefilla writes in his introduction that we will be truly embarrassed before the Heavenly Court when we are questioned about the meaning of "mashlich karcho chefitim," a phrase we all say thousands of times during our lifetime.... Will we have an adequate response when we find out that "evrecha" in Ma Tovu means kneeling, not blessing? A person should not be satisfied with understanding the general meaning of most of davening. He should consider it an intellectual challenge to know the meaning of every sentence of davening. After all, people who enjoy golfing, tennis or other sports take pride in their improvement in the game as years go by. Those learning a language or engaging in some other academic pursuit will periodically evaluate their progress. Do we sense a comparable degree of growth in our davening after the passing of a year... of five years... of twenty years?

The Shloh's son, Rabbi Sheftel Horowitz, ZT"L, writes (in his work, Vovey Ho'amudim) that when he was a dayan in Frankfurt-am-Main, he established chaburos (study groups) for the purpose of learning the meaning of the tefillos of weekdays, Shabbos and Yom Tov. He states that this prevents the davening from becoming like the "mere chattering of birds."[back to top of page]

We all know the scene. People walk in late to shul, engage in cordial greetings, catch up on the news, and then start davening. At that point, it becomes virtually impossible for them to articulate every word and to daven properly. Thus, the first step must be to arrive on time, which means before the scheduled time, so that one is ready to start at the designated moment.

Too often we treat most of the davening as if it were Shemoneh Esrei, by davening inaudibly, silently. The key to enjoying davening is to enunciate the words, feel their beauty, sense their poetry. Once a davening atmosphere is created, idle conversation will simply disappear. When someone walks into shul, he will sense that he is in a place of davening-even if he wanted to, he would be embarrassed to talk. Before long, he too will be caught up in the spirit of davening.

The non-conversers play a major role in creating this atmosphere. If they daven a bit louder than they usually do and a bit more spiritedly, the talkers will feel out of place. It is incumbent upon the abstainers to help the indulgers by generating the proper esprit de corps in shul. Acting on this obligation is a function of "ve'ahavta le'rei'acha kamocha-love your neighbor...," which in any case should be the first kavana before davening, according to seforim. In time, others will be carried along with the group spirit, and will steadily lose the desire to prattle away the tefillos to the point of oblivion. Once a person understands the davening and starts davening properly, he begins to enjoy the experience.

An added factor leading to a spirited davening is a unified responsive "Omein" and "Yehei sh'mei rabba." And think of the poor sheliach tzibbur and how disheartening it can be for him to be abandoned at the amud. He should be encouraged by the tzibbur's response to lead an exuberant davening!

There is a simple test to determine if you are finally enjoying your davening: Do you look forward to davening or do you find davening a chore? Granted, davening can accomplish a great deal even if the mispallel is bored. But isn't it a shame to spend so much time engaged in stimulating spiritual activity and fail to sense the joy? Davening with engagement of mind and heart can be an adventure, a fulfilling experience, rendering the joy of exchanging news and views ephemeral by comparison. One need only observe the seasoned davening of a Rav or the fresh attempts at tefilla of a young child to be convinced that proper davening is far, far from boring.[back to top of page]

Many people seem to find davening the most opportune time to learn. Indeed, especially for Daf Yomi learners, learning during davening frees up other time. Moreover, there is a cachet of intellectualism in public learning during davening. Yet, one rarely finds a Rav or other talmid chacham learning during davening.

The learner-davener must share the blame with the shmoozer for the noise-level in a shul. The learner-davener is proclaiming that he is just as bored with the davening as the addicted conversationalist and is projecting a message that davening is not important. He contributes to the non-davening atmosphere in the shul.

Rav Eliezer Waldenberg (Tzitz Eliezer, Vol. IX,10) cites a commentator who homiletically explains the Gemora "pishpesh v'lo matza, yitleh b'bitul Torah," that one who endures physical suffering and cannot find a spiritual reason should blame it on the fact that during davening he had failed to abandon his Torah study... for the sake of davening.

It is reported that a highly regarded Chassidic Rebbe recently walked around his shul during a Friday night davening and closed the seforim of the learner-daveners.

The Mishna Berurah (124:14) writes that one should not learn during Chazoras Hashatz, even if one answers Omein at the end of every beracha, because it serves to demonstrate that it is acceptable not to pay attention to the davening. The less-learned will, therefore, talk and the learner-davener must shoulder the blame.

The Chasam Sofer, ZT"L, was once asked about the seemingly inordinate amount of time he spent on davening and whether it would not be better to spend that time in Torah study. He responded that the Gemora (Berachos 54b) teaches us that one who devotes extra time to davening is blessed with a long life, and he plans to make up any lost learning during that extra time.

The Chasam Sofer even utilized humor to stress the importance of concentrated davening. In the introduction to the Siddur Chasam Sofer, one of his students relates that the Chasam Sofer quoted the Midrash where Reb Yochanan exclaims that "he wishes that people would daven all day" (Tanchuma, Miketz). If so, when would people learn? The Chasam Sofer explained that the yeitzer hora wants a person to learn during davening. Thus, Reb Yochanan jestingly meant that a person who intends to daven all day would ultimately spend the entire day learning.

Rabbi Chaim Shmulevitz, ZT"L, the late Rosh Hayeshiva in Mir-Jerusalem, in a recently published mussar shmuess, proclaims that someone who treats prayer lightly will not see success in his Torah studies. He based this on the Gemora at the end of Nidda (70b), where Rabbi Yehoshua ben Chanina asked for the formula to acquire wisdom and the Gemora states that he should increase the time spent on learning and decrease the time spent on business. To the empirical question that many who have followed this formula have not been successful, the Gemora answers that one must first pray to G-d, who is the source of all wisdom.[back to top of page]

To heighten the sensitivity to the importance of talk-free davening, one Shabbos a year should be dedicated by each shul to a discussion of all aspects of davening. Ideally, it should be the same Shabbos for all shuls. Parshas Beshalach, has been chosen because the Torah portion read that day includes the text of Shmot 14:14 in which Moshe allays the fears of the Children of Israel at the shore of the Red Sea with the words: "G-d will fight for you, but you must remain silent." Appropriate advance publicity would be arranged and background material could be distributed. The Rav of the shul would take that opportunity to reemphasize the value of proper davening and to review some of the basic halachos of davening. A special effort would be made by all mispallelim to avoid idle talk and to concentrate on the davening.

In these troubled times, it would behoove us to improve the quality of our davening. The first steps should be to study the meaning of the tefillos, to come on time to shul and to articulate every word of davening. Shmoozing during davening will thereafter, with G-d's help, become an anachronism.[back to top of page]

My Dear Chaver,

Please excuse me for not signing this letter. Were I to do so, everyone in shul would know that this letter is being written to you, and I do not want to cause you public disgrace.

I have known you for many years and I value our relationship. Hopefully, you feel the same towards me. Your commitment to Limud Torah and your unrestrained gemilas chesed are truly enviable. In fact, I had even hoped that by sitting next to you in shul some of your midos would rub off on me.

But one thing that disturbs me greatly is your talking during davening. At first, it was barely more than a word or two to amplify a facial expression. But now, you begin conversation almost as soon as you come into shul.

I am not calling this to your attention, now, to give you tochacha (reproof). Certainly, my own slate is not nearly clean enough to make a reckoning for you. But I just want to let you know how your talking in shul is affecting me.

First and foremost is Shmoneh Esrei. You probably assume that I am very well off financially, and in other ways, too. But I have some very pressing personal problems, which even my best friends know nothing about. Now, considering my pekle, I don't stand Shmoneh Esrei nearly as long as I should, but somehow you always seem to finish ahead of me. I realize that you are trying to talk quietly, but since you're standing right next to me, it disrupts my entire kavonah (concentration). Sometimes, I get so angry with you that I feel like blurting out in the middle of my Shmoneh Esrei, "Why don't you just go outside to talk? I can't walk out now; but you can!" And who knows if my tefillos are not being answered because of inadequate kavonah? Of course, I am not blaming you for my tzoris, but since Shmoneh Esrei is my chance to plead for some mercy, I would appreciate it if you would conduct the conversation outside, and then come in for Kedusha.

Next is Chazoras Hashatz, when the chazan repeats the Shmoneh Esrei. Even though I am aware of the bountiful reward to be earned with each omein, I am, unfortunately, far too lax in responding properly. Nevertheless, when I hardly hear the chazan above your schmoozing, I end up losing out on even more omein opportunities.

Now, you might argue and say that you are talking to the man on the other side and not with me. yes, that is true. But I also have an inclination to schmooze in shul. When I see you practically smacking your lips over a delicious interchange, I am tempted to join you. Sometimes, I tell myself that I will only listen to your conversation. Than I find myself an accomplice, by encouraging you with my interest. At other times, however, I even find myself sucked into actively participating in the conversation, which I had promised myself only to overhear.

The krias haTorah is difficult enough to follow, with the inevitable noise of foot shuffling, coughing, and (in the summer) air conditioner blowing. But when that combines with your conversation, I go home each Shabbos wondering whether or not I have been yotzei krias haTorah.

Finally, I must say that our shul is a very special one. We have some excellent shiurim, a highly respected Rabbi, and a minyan full of bnei Torah. In general, there is a fairly good decorum in our shul, compared with many others. So I suppose I could just change my seat. But at this point, it would be too awkward to explain without embarrassing you or myself.

Our shul, in many ways, is truly a mikdash me'at - a sanctuary in miniature. But whenever I am about to reach the full appreciation of that, especially on Shabbos, your talking cools me off.

The other day, you asked me why I don't bring my five year old son to shul more often. I told you that he's still too young. Now I'll tell you the real reason. He still feels kedushas beis hamedrash - the sanctity of the place - when he walks in. Even after davening, he whispers in shul. If I bring him every week and sit him down between us, I am frankly afraid of your example. How can he retain his reverence for shul if he observes your behavior. Each Shabbos he begs me to take him along and I'm running out of excuses.

You don't owe me any respect. And you may feel that my kavonah does not take precedence to you socializing. But think of our children in shul. What will become of their davening? I see you are already having trouble controlling some of your children in shul. Whenever you are not schmoozing with a friend, you are reprimanding your children. Yes, their conduct is reprehensible, at times; but where do you think they learned to be callous towards kedushas beis hamedrash?

In writing this letter, I have tried to avoid giving away my own identity or that of our shul. If others read this letter, however, they may waste time trying to figure out whom this letter was meant for. But you know. Wishing you and your family all the best.